Under Oath
by poisonivy231
Summary: In a dystopian society, homosexuals are forced to marry at 18 and consummate the marriage within 24 hours. With no choice in who their partner is, Kurt and Blaine meet and are married at their wedding. A fill for the Glee Kink Meme.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I wrote this as a fill for this prompt on the Glee Kink Meme:_

**An AU (dystopia?) where there are laws that force gay teens to get into a civil union with each other, in order to keep them from "preying on the heterosexuals". The law would also establish gender roles inside the same-sex union, trying to normalize homosexuality as much as possible.**

**Kurt and Blaine both grew up in this society and, while aware that it's not fair, they accept it as fact and don't want to risk imprisonment for disobedience. They get married to eachother by the state, without their consent, and are expected to consummate the marriage within 24 hours of its official announcement. Blaine gets assigned the role of husband.**

**First-time sex, with both of them nervous and not really familiar with eachother. I'd love to see Blaine trying to be as gentle with Kurt as possible, feeling really guilty though he did nothing wrong.**

**Please give this a happy ending :)**

_I fell in love with this prompt immediately and am really happy I took it up. I would love to hear what you think!_

* * *

><p><em>Under Oath<em>

_Blaine Anderson_

Kurt ran his fingers over the printed letters. In a few hours, that was the boy he was to marry. That was the name he'd be calling for the rest of his life. In the two days since he had received the letter, he'd tried to imagine what this boy would look like, but it wasn't one of those names that told you much. Not boring, per se, but not a name that jumped out at you. There was no middle name, which Kurt found odd. Perhaps they didn't think homosexuals _deserved_ three names. Maybe they thought it would be a good conversation starting point in their life together.

His eyes lowered to the next piece of information the letter told him, below the name and the paragraph about the date of the ceremony, what it would entail, threats about what would happen if he did not go through with it as ordered.

_Relationship Roles:_

_Blaine Anderson – Husband_

_Kurt Hummel – Wife_

Kurt leaned his head back against his bedroom wall. Wife. Of course. Lady, Queen, Wife; they were all one and the same, really. He had expected it from the moment the interviewer stepped through his door. The government said that by talking to the teenagers they were pairing up, they could find them a more suitable match, but all those involved knew it was purely to establish gender roles. They got their list of 'wives' and list of 'husbands' and went from there. He'd heard there were decisions made based on height and star sign, but he was pretty sure those were rumours. After all, he was the only out gay kid in his town, so his sources couldn't be particularly reliable.

His eyes roamed across the bedroom he had been cultivating for years. These were his last few hours of being able to call this room his own: the government had set up accommodation across the country for newly married homosexuals, allowing them to get a degree or a job before they searched for a house together. Thousands of homeless gays was not exactly good PR. Blaine Anderson hadn't offered to pay for a house for the two of them, but neither had Kurt, so he couldn't exactly complain. He wouldn't buy a house for a forced husband he didn't know even if he had the monetary capacity.

He'd packed all of his things into boxes in preparation for the government employees who would be transporting them to his new home. He was sitting on his bare mattress in a room full of empty shelves and a beautiful colour scheme. He was still permitted to see his friends and family after the ceremony – a right which should not have felt as much like a privilege as it did – but this room could not be his unless he brought Anderson – _Blaine_, he had to call him Blaine – to his family home for the night. Even then, it wouldn't be his, it would be _theirs_. Everything was going to be theirs. A shared house, as required. A joint bank account, as ordered. Furniture, cars, pets, curtains, food bills, fucking _children_, all of it _theirs_, never his; never Blaine's, never Kurt's. He would share his whole life, even his body, with this boy that he had never met. And he was definitely a boy, not a man. That was the rule. As soon as they hit eighteen, they were put on the list for marriage and the ceremony would occur with a year. For Kurt, it had only been two weeks since that date which, for most teenagers, would have been liberating, but for him was the warning sign for ultimate entrapment.

Kurt swung his legs off the mattress and folded the piece of paper once more as he stood up. He slipped it into the pocket of his skinny jeans and walked to the door of his bedroom. He turned to survey the room one last time before pulling open the door and heading downstairs. His father, Carole and Finn were all in the living room; Carole and his father sitting, Finn leaning uncomfortably against the mantelpiece.

"Kurt," Carole said in that soft, pitying voice she had been using since the letter with the governmental stamp on it had arrived. She stood, pulling him into a soft hug. Kurt let her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his head against her shoulder. These were his last few hours being considered a child and he was damn well going to take advantage of them. He felt a hand on his back and knew his father had joined them. He could hear Finn shuffle closer.

Kurt could feel tears forming in his eyes, so he pulled away from Carole. "What do you think?" he asked, gesturing at his outfit. It was just like any regular outfit of his, beautifully put together and looking like it came from the very pages of _Vogue_, but it was all in the brightest, cleanest white. "I think it has just enough of the traditional vibe for them not to drag me off to a dungeon while still—"

"Still saying 'screw them'," Finn interjected with a small smile. "It's awesome, Kurt."

"Thanks, Finn."

The taller boy grabbed his shoulder unexpectedly, tugging Kurt into his arms. "I'm really going to miss you being here. I know…I know it doesn't make it better, but I wish it didn't have to be this way. I hope he's nice. And, you know, at least average looking."

Kurt laughed and let his stepbrother give him a squeeze before he was released. "I don't know how I'm going to deal with not living with you guys." He looked at each of their faces, all filled with sadness for him, and knew his last free hours with them could not be this morose. "Thank god I can cook, right?"

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><p>They had tried to normalise the ceremony as much as possible. Kurt's family sat on one side of the room, staring at Blaine's family on the other side. Neither set were sure whether they should cross over and greet each other. Was it really right to meet your son's step-family before he'd even met his own husband? After a few minutes, Kurt's family got to see Blaine, who was led into the room to stand at the end of the short aisle. The boy looked terrified, pulling at the sleeves of wedding-appropriate suit and glancing repeatedly at the door Kurt would enter from. His brother, or the man Burt assumed was his brother, would occasionally catch his eye and give him a thumbs-up and then a reprimanding frown, making Blaine drop his arms to his sides and stand like he was supposed to be there. Burt couldn't help but be struck by how young this boy looked. He knew Kurt had the tendency to look like a child, so he shouldn't have been surprised, but it was far more noticeable in a boy who was not his own. It hit him all over again how wrong this was, how unready these two children – for they were children, really, regardless of what law said – were to be joined to each other so completely.<p>

Without warning, music started up. It was the classic wedding march, of course. Both families turned to the double doors at the back of the room and Blaine stiffened, looking like he was about to faint. The doors opened and Kurt stepped through them, eyes flicking automatically to his family, who gave him encouraging looks, then to Blaine. Their eyes met, seeing for the first time the eyes they would stare into for the rest of their lives. Kurt tried to breathe normally and keep walking, suddenly feeling less nervous and more terrified. Blaine smiled at him just a tiny bit and Kurt noted that his soon-to-husband was really quite beautiful. He had warm eyes which stayed fixed on Kurt's, guiding to the end of the aisle.

As Kurt processed towards him, Blaine was utterly shell-shocked. This boy was beautiful. _Beautiful_. He couldn't fathom his eyes, which seemed to have no distinct colour, glittering even in the fluorescent lights of the ceremony room. Blaine took in the boy's – Kurt's, Kurt Hummel-soon-to-be-Anderson's outfit and couldn't help but smile. The undercurrent of defiance was perfect and all at once Blaine was sure he could learn to like and maybe love this boy. When Kurt stopped beside him and the man uniting them began to speak, they kept glancing at each other, trying to take in this new person, scope out what they were like. The first time they caught each other doing this, both of them blushed, but smiled shyly. Blaine mouthed 'hi', earning him a roll of the eyes from Kurt and a silent 'hello' in reply. Then they turned back to the man in front of them, trying to look as though they were concentrating. They were far more focused on each other than their own wedding.

Eventually, the words the man was saying began to sink in; those about spending their lives together, supporting each other no matter the circumstances, anything and everything until death did they part. They promised themselves to each other with nervous smiles and quivering hands as they pushed rings onto the other's finger. They didn't kiss, even when they were told they could. Neither boy was quite ready for that when they had only heard the other say two words out loud. They settled for a respectful hug and a walk back down the aisle with their arms only brushing against each other, no hands held.

They were provided with a reception in the same building. Over glasses of champagne, their families introduced themselves while Kurt and Blaine just watched each other. Kurt saw how charming Blaine was with his parents, how he managed to drag laughs out of Finn and Burt with talk of sports and a smile from Carole when he complimented her dress. Kurt decided very early on that Blaine had a beautiful voice; it was distinctive but not intrusive, the kind of voice you could listen to for hours. He hoped that Blaine thought the same of his.

The other boy's parents seemed a little reserved, but Kurt had expected that. The whole situation was uncomfortable. Blaine's brother was the most talkative, but he kept pushing Kurt towards his new husband, evidently trying to get them to bond. It only really worked when they sat down to eat, Blaine and Kurt forced together by the seating plan. They started a tentative conversation, but when their families purposefully turned from them to ensure they carried on, they became more confident. By the end of the meal, both boys were laughing, talking more than they had hoped they would and getting along better than they could have wished for.

* * *

><p>Eventually, they had to leave their families and head for their new house alone. The car ride was silent, both boys nervous once more. Without really talking about it, they spent a while exploring all of the rooms, looking at the furniture they had been provided with, the small amount of complimentary food in the fridge, what things they'd like to change. When it couldn't be avoided any more, they ended up together in their bedroom, sitting at opposite ends of the bed, legs crossed, staring at the bedspread.<p>

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Kurt said.

"Me neither." Blaine peered up at him from under his lashes and caught Kurt's eyes. Both boys blushed and laughed a little. "At least we know it's awkward for both of us."

"I just can't believe we're _married_. I just…I don't even know you."

Blaine sighed and crawled a little closer to the other boy. "I know, but it's done now. And I like to think myself very lucky in getting such an attractive husband." He grinned at Kurt, who blushed even more, looking away. Blaine launched into speech again. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. That came out all wrong. It was way too forward and just…I'm not creepy, I swear. It's just that we're _married_ and we're supposed to…consummate it and, god, Kurt, I'm so nervous, you wouldn't _believe_."

"Blaine, it's okay, I get it. Really, I do." He took Blaine's – his husband's hand, noticing how it fit well in his. Another relief. "And I have a very attractive husband, too." He smiled and squeezed Blaine's hand before taking a deep breath. "So. How much longer do we have before we're supposed to have…you know?"

Blaine glanced at the clock on their new bedside table. "Nineteen hours and…thirty-four minutes. But don't feel pressured into doing it now," he said quickly, looking back at Kurt, who was surprisingly still holding his hand.

"I…Can we, I don't know, kiss first? Otherwise it's just a bit…sudden."

"Yeah, of course, I wouldn't ever expect us to just jump straight into it." Blaine saw Kurt smirk a little. "Sorry," he said. "That wasn't supposed to sound so—"

"Blaine, seriously, it's okay." Kurt took the boy's other hand. "This is going to be awkward. It's going to be scary. I can deal with that."

Blaine nodded, raising one of Kurt's hands slowly and pressing his lips to the back of it. "I'm so sorry about this Kurt. I just need you to know that. I also…from what I have learnt of you so far, I think you're wonderful. I mean, when you walked down the aisle in your white skinny jeans, I knew we were going to get along on some level."

"Oh, really?" Kurt asked, arching an eyebrow. He had to admit, Blaine kissing his hand and being so sweet was making this situation a little better.

"Really." Blaine stared at him for a second before leaning forwards and pressing his lips gently to Kurt's cheek. It was brief and very chaste and he sat back quickly. "Was that okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Kurt said with a squeeze to the other boy's fingers. "Thank you."

"Tell me if I'm going too fast. I know we're on a ticking clock, but we can go as slowly as you like within that timeframe."

Kurt nodded and shuffled a little closer to Blaine. Their knees were pressed against each other, the point of contact warm, but not as scary as Kurt had expected. For now, he trusted Blaine. He knew he wasn't ready to have sex with anyone, but he had to and Blaine was doing the best that he could. Kurt couldn't help but like the boy.

"So, before we start, I guess I should ask if you've done anything like this before," Kurt said, looking away from Blaine again.

"You mean…You mean sex?" Kurt nodded. "No, not at all. H-have you?"

"No," Kurt said with a laugh. "God, no. I'm the only gay kid in my town. Not exactly many opportunities."

"Me too. So we're on an even playing field then?"

"And you're making sports references. I demand a divorce." Blaine looked panicked and Kurt immediately lifted a hand to the other boy's arm. "Hey, Blaine, I was joking. I…I do that. Defence mechanism. Don't take it to heart, okay?"

"Right. Yeah, of course." He sighed. "I wish I had a chance to learn more about you before we…"

Kurt pressed his lips together as he nodded, trying not to cry. He'd long ago accepted that this was the way it was going to be, although he continually resented the iniquity of it. It had become something expected. But now, sitting on a bed with a boy he had both met and married just a few hours ago, it was hitting him all over again how ridiculous and unfair this was. He was more scared than he could remember ever being; more scared than when he was being beaten up every day; more scared than when he walked down the aisle.

"What's your middle name?" Blaine asked, pulling Kurt out of his thoughts.

He blinked a few times to clear the tears from his eyes as he processed what the other boy had said. "You noticed that, too?"

Blaine laughed, the action making him clutch harder at Kurt's fingers, and nodded.

"Well, technically it's Eugene," Kurt said, feeling himself blush. "But I tend to go by Elizabeth. It's my mother's name."

"But I thought…The woman I met today was called Carole."

Kurt looked up, seeing that Blaine was frowning. "That's my stepmother. My mother died when I was eight."

Blaine's eyes widened, his forehead creasing further. Kurt noted that he had one of the most expressive faces he'd ever seen. All the emotions could be read from the slant of his eyebrows, the set of his mouth. It was intriguing.

"Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry. I didn't intend—"

"Don't. It was a long time ago. It's not your fault. Anyway, the government would probably prefer Elizabeth. At least I conform more to my role that way."

Blaine gave Kurt such a heartbroken expression that the taller boy had to work very hard not to start crying again. "Oh, Kurt. I don't expect you to keep to that, you know. You can be whoever you like. You can be the breadwinner or whatever. We both can. You can…you can even…top, if you like."

Kurt shook his head. "They'd know, Blaine. Although they can't argue with me working for a few years, can they? It's just if we – I mean when we have children."

"We don't have to have children if you don't want them."

"Blaine," he reached up and cupped the other boy's cheek, surprising even himself, "let's cross that bridge when we come to it."

The other boy nodded. He put his hand over Kurt's, slotting his fingers between the other boy's and lifting it from his cheek. He gave Kurt a questioning look and, when he received a tiny nod in return, pressed a light kiss to Kurt's palm. He kissed Kurt's hand again, this time at the heel, then his wrist. He paused, lips against the other boy's skin, and looked into his eyes.

"It's okay," Kurt said. "It's good."

Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt's wrist once more before lowering their joined hands to the bed. Then he leaned forwards, stopping with the tip of his nose brushing against Kurt's. "Can I—?"

Kurt tilted his head, cutting Blaine off as he pressed his lips to the other boy's. He noticed immediately how soft Blaine's lips were, then how Brittany had been wrong: they didn't taste like burgers and dip at all. They tasted just a little bit like wedding cake and beneath that was something Kurt couldn't describe, something he assumed was just Blaine. The other boy brought a hand up to hold Kurt's cheek, moving his lips carefully, trying not to push too far too fast. He pulled back after only a few seconds, not realising that Kurt wouldn't have minded if he hadn't. He let out a breath that almost constituted a laugh, eyes flicking repeatedly to Kurt's and away again.

"Was that alright?"

Kurt kissed the corner of Blaine's mouth, gently bumping his nose against the other boy's cheek. "You don't have to ask me that every time."

"I-I want you to know that I respect you and I won't push you."

"If I want to stop, I'll tell you. You have to trust me, Blaine."

Blaine looked into the other boy's eyes. "I do."

Kurt smiled, taking Blaine's chin in his hand and bringing their lips together for another, longer kiss. "Then make love to me."

Blaine let out a tiny choked sound at Kurt's words. "Now?"

"There isn't really any other time."

"It still feels too soon."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Blaine, it's not our decision. It's theirs." He waved a hand vaguely to indicate the greater force controlling their relationship. "Kiss me again and we'll go from there."

Blaine was about to protest again, but Kurt gave him a hard look, just daring him to try. The shorter boy bit his lip as he nodded, then leaned closer again. He kissed the very corner of Kurt's mouth, then trailed his lips across his cheekbone, darting his tongue out to lick at the shell of his ear. Kurt shuddered against him, putting a hand on Blaine's knee. Blaine did it again, amazed at the whimper it brought out of Kurt. He kissed just under the other boy's earlobe, but stopped before he kissed down his neck. Instead, he brought his lips back to Kurt's, which were parted in a gasp. He traced his tongue around Kurt's mouth before letting it slip inside. Kurt immediately moaned, pressing his fingers into Blaine's knee and bringing his other hand up to grip at the other boy's hair. Blaine placed a hand on Kurt's cheek, angling the other boy's head to kiss him deeper. He groaned into Kurt's mouth, head dizzy from the sensation of running his tongue along Kurt's. Both boys unwittingly moved closer to each other, knees overlapping as they clutched at each other, tongues licking at each other's mouths.

Finally, Blaine pulled away, blinking his eyes open slowly and finding Kurt staring at him.

"You're very talented with your tongue, Mr Anderson."

Blaine laughed, bumping the tip of his nose against Kurt's. "So are you, Mr Anderson."

Something changed in Kurt's eyes. The brightness, brought on by kissing, dulled and he seemed to shrink in on himself. Blaine realised what he'd done and brought a hand to Kurt's knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth across it in a way that he hoped was comforting. "Kurt, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to. I know you're not used to that yet."

"It's fine, Blaine."

"No, it's _not_ fine. I upset you."

"You called me by my name. I just have to get used to it, that's all. Please, just carry on." Kurt put a hand on either side of Blaine's face, staring straight into his eyes. "I'm fine now. What you were doing felt really good and I don't want to ruin it."

Blaine placed his hands over Kurt's. "You couldn't ruin it. You're perfect."

Kurt smirked at him, pulling his hands out from under the other boy's. Blaine dropped his to the bed. "I don't think it will take you long to figure out that that's not true, Blaine."

Blaine tilted his head, considering, before kissing Kurt swiftly. "Can we just," he whispered against Kurt's lips, "accept that I think you're perfect?"

Kurt couldn't say no when he could feel Blaine's words spoken onto his lips. He wrapped his arms around the other boy's neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. He immediately licked at Blaine's lips so that Blaine's mouth opened, allowing Kurt's tongue to enter. Their tongues tangled together again as Blaine wrapped his fingers around Kurt's hips. The taller boy crawled into Blaine's lap, straddling him. Blaine immediately pulled back.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he asked, eyes wide and breath ragged.

"Kissing you."

"This isn't—"

Kurt was starting to suspect Blaine would do this all the way. He knew the other boy was trying to be respectful, trying to show that he cared and that he thought Kurt mattered, but every time they stopped, Kurt's nerves just increased. They were just kissing. It was pretty harmless. Once they reached the further stages, he was pretty sure they would have to pause while he adjusted to the situation, but for now he was happy to carry on. For that reason, he cut the other boy off with a kiss again, running his fingers through Blaine's hair as their lips moved against each other. Blaine seemed to give in and his arms snaked around Kurt's back, tugging him closer. Their hips moved against each other and both boys groaned.

Kurt moved his hands to the buttons on Blaine's shirt, undoing them with fingers well-practised at the art. As he reached Blaine's stomach, the other boy broke away from him. Kurt pressed a finger to his lips to stop him from protesting, undoing the last few buttons with one hand. This had Blaine staring at him in awe.

"I have some very complex clothes," Kurt said in explanation, surprised at how husky his voice was.

Blaine simply nodded, rubbing his hands up and down Kurt's back. Then he reached up and started to unbutton Kurt's shirt, albeit much more slowly. Kurt tried not to shiver every time Blaine's fingertips brushed against the skin of his chest and stomach, but he'd never been touched or cared for this way before. Every part of his body seemed hypersensitive; his lips felt bruised, but in the best way he could imagine. He pushed Blaine's shirt off his shoulders and let the other boy do the same for him. He couldn't help himself from clasping Blaine's face in his hands and kissing him almost desperately. He wanted it now, more than he'd ever expected to. Blaine was so kind, so handsome and really did the most fabulous things with his tongue. Kurt had always wished he could be in love for a moment like this, but considering the circumstances, he thought that this was nigh on perfect.

When he reached for the button of Blaine's pants, the other boy hesitated. Kurt felt Blaine stiffen underneath him, about to pull back. He broke away from him. "Are you okay?" he asked the other boy. Blaine was trying so hard to make Kurt feel comfortable; the least he could do was return the favour.

"I remembered what we were doing and I…" He blinked shyly up at Kurt from under his eyelashes. "I got scared. But I'm fine."

Kurt stroked his thumb across Blaine's cheek. "Are you sure?"

Blaine just kissed him, guiding Kurt's fingers back to the button, which the taller boy quickly unfastened before pulling the zip down. He scratched his nails up Blaine's stomach, loving how Blaine gasped into his mouth. He scrambled off the other boy's lap, unbuttoning his own jeans. Blaine slapped his hands away, taking over. Kurt let him, smiling up at him even though Blaine was looking at the jeans and not him. The other boy tried to tug Kurt's jeans down, but Kurt had to lift his hips before Blaine managed it.

"These are _very_ skinny jeans, Kurt," he said, staring down at them as Kurt shimmied a little to get them off.

"I thought you liked them," Kurt said, a little breathless as Blaine pulled them all the way off and dropped them to the floor, too. The shorter boy hovered over Kurt, brushing his lips against the other boy's.

"I do. It doesn't stop them being difficult to get off."

Kurt giggled against Blaine's lips, raising his hands to the hips above his own and hooking his thumbs under the waistband of Blaine's boxers. He pulled both them and the pants off so that they pooled around Blaine's knees. The shorter boy shifted so he could kick them off, then turned back to the other boy, trying not to be shy about how completely naked he was.

Kurt hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs, then paused. He looked up at Blaine, trying desperately not to look at inappropriate places regardless of how curious he was, and tried to breathe. Blaine caught this look and reached out to stroke Kurt's arm.

"It's okay," he said. "Do you want me to…look away?"

Kurt shook his head quickly. "No. We're…we're about to have sex. You should at least see me naked."

"I don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Blaine, I'm going to be blunt, okay?" The other boy nodded, a frown forming between his thick eyebrows that Kurt couldn't help but think was cute. "You're about to put your…" He steeled himself. "Cock inside me. I think that's a little more personal than a bit of nudity."

Blaine sucked in a breath through his teeth, making a hissing sound. "You're right. Do you think I could…?" He placed his shaking hands over Kurt's, slipping his index fingers in next to Kurt's thumbs. Kurt gasped at Blaine's skin on his, closer to his cock than any other person had ever been. They were pressed right over his hipbones and he squirmed a little in pleasure before nodding and removing his hands. Blaine caught his eye and both of them were surprised by how dark the other's pupils were. Kurt leaned back on his elbows and watched Blaine's eyes trail down chest to where he was loosely gripping Kurt's hips. Both boys were breathing more raggedly and although he could feel himself blushing all the way down his neck from the embarrassment of it, Kurt was completely hard. Despite how awkward it was and how little he knew the other boy, he was about to have sex. Actual, real life sex. That was undeniably exciting.

Kurt saw Blaine glance down further and watched the other boy's eyes widen as he took in the bulge in Kurt's briefs. He looked up to Kurt's face again, mouth open a little. "Kurt," he said, the word coming out broken in a way that made Kurt irrationally want him closer again.

"Kiss me," he said. "Please."

For the first time, Blaine didn't hesitate. He surged up Kurt's body and pressed their mouths together, kissing him deeply. Kurt moaned, running his fingertips up Blaine's arms as he licked into the other boy's mouth. He could understand why people did this so much: it felt heavenly. Blaine, who had been hovering just above him, lowered his body onto Kurt's, pressing all of them against each other. Kurt gasped and pulled back from the kiss, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into the pillow. He could feel Blaine hard against him and _fuck_, he just needed to breathe for a second.

"Kurt? I – is this okay? I'm sorry—"

"Blaine, please stop apologising. It's fine. More than fine. I just need a moment, okay? It's a lot."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Blaine leaned his forehead against Kurt's collarbone, breathing heavily. "Tell me whenever you need to stop."

Kurt trailed a hand up the other boy's back. "You, too. Don't go all cavalier on me and do things when you don't feel comfortable."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Blaine said and Kurt could feel the other boy smiling against his skin. Blaine pressed a gentle kiss to the hollow at the base of his neck. "How are you feeling?" he asked, resting his nose in the place he had just kissed.

"Am I allowed to say horny?"

Blaine lifted his head and caught Kurt's eye before bursting into laughter. He leaned his head into Kurt's neck, chuckling, back shaking. "Yes," he said, coughing the word out between laughs. "Yes, you definitely are."

Kurt smiled down at the boy in his arms, feeling a strange flutter in his chest. He stroked his fingers up Blaine's spine, right up to the back of his head, where he ran his fingers gently through his hair. He curved his neck and pressed a kiss to the other boy's forehead. Then he hooked two fingers under Blaine's chin, tilting his head up. "Laughing is all well and good, Mr Anderson, but what are you going to do about it?" he asked, eyes sparkling. Blaine gaped up at him momentarily; it should have looked stupid, but Kurt somehow found it both attractive and endearing. Then Blaine snapped his mouth shut and leaned up to kiss him again. It was brief but seared through Kurt's body, making him push his hips up into the other boy's. Blaine pulled back, kissing down Kurt's neck, sucking a little on his collarbone.

"If you want me to stop, just say." His lips were still against Kurt's skin and the other boy moaned, tugging slightly on Blaine's hair where his fingers were still tangled in it. Blaine took this is as encouragement and continued to trail his lips downwards. He pressed tiny kisses to Kurt's sternum, eyes flicking up to the other boy's face constantly to check that he was okay with this. When Kurt leaned his head back, stretching out his neck and arching his back a little, Blaine couldn't stop himself from licking a stripe across to one nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Kurt keened, his other hand grabbing Blaine's shoulder, pressing his fingers hard into the skin so it turned white under the points of pressure.

"Blaine, _Blaine_. God, why does that feel so good?"

Blaine grinned, then licked around the edge of Kurt's nipple before sucking it back into his mouth again. He groaned at the way it hardened to a nub against his tongue and the vibrations made Kurt tug on his hair again. Blaine acted on impulse, biting lightly before he pulled back. He lay his cheek against Kurt's chest, breathing heavily. "Still okay?"

"So okay. Just," Kurt pulled Blaine's hair insistently, "_more_."

"You sure this isn't too fast?"

"Blaine, _please_."

Kurt sounded so sure, so full of want and Blaine couldn't help but oblige. He returned his lips to Kurt's skin, kissing down the centre of stomach. He trailed his fingertips down Kurt's ribs, barely brushing the skin, and goose-bumps formed under his touch. Kurt slipped his hand from Blaine's shoulder to the back of his neck, his legs involuntarily spreading further apart. Blaine sensed the movement and stopped. He had suddenly realised exactly what he was doing and was momentarily overwhelmed. He pressed his forehead to Kurt's stomach, trying to keep himself calm.

"Why are you stopping?" Kurt whined above his head.

"Kurt, I'm sorry, I need to…I need a moment."

Blaine felt Kurt's fingers let go of his hair, stroking his scalp instead in a movement that was actually soothing, which he supposed was the intention. "It's okay," Kurt said, voice suddenly a lot softer. "Take all the time you need."

Blaine paused where he was, breathing steadily against Kurt's stomach. He could do this. He could. He _had_ to. If he didn't, he was not the only one who would be imprisoned: he'd be taking Kurt down with him and Blaine could not do that; Kurt didn't deserve that. "Thank you," he said, "for being you. I couldn't have dealt with it if I hated you. I know I haven't known you long, but…you make me feel safe."

"The feeling's mutual."

Blaine took a few more breaths before lifting his head again. "Okay. I'm okay."

Kurt stroked Blaine's curls back from his forehead, smiling down at him. "You're doing amazingly."

"I don't have any technique. I'm just muddling through here."

"Well, it's definitely working," Kurt said. Blaine caught his eye and saw the smirk.

"You're cheeky," he said with a grin.

"And you're sweet. Now, if you're good to carry on, what you were doing felt _really_ good." He tilted his hips up, letting his erection brush against the other boy's chest and enjoying the way Blaine's eyelids fluttered. Blaine just moaned in reply before pressing a kiss to Kurt's navel. He considered for a second, then darted his tongue out, dipping it into Kurt's belly button. The taller boy cried out and grabbed Blaine's hair once more. He did it again, licking slower this time, letting his tongue flick languorously out of the dip. Kurt's hand flew from the back of his neck to the bed beside them, gripping the sheets hard in his fingers. Blaine could still feel Kurt's cock bumping against his chest and the sensation made him just want to rut into the bed.

He slipped his fingers under the waistband of Kurt's briefs again, kissing further down his stomach. "I'm going to…" He tugged at the material and Kurt lifted his hips to make it easier. Blaine pulled the briefs off, trying not to gasp when Kurt's cock was bared, hard and lying flat on his stomach. He dropped the item onto the floor on top of their other clothes and stopped, just staring at Kurt's cock. He'd never seen one in real life before and he couldn't help himself.

"Blaine?"

He heard the nervousness in Kurt's voice and snapped his head up to see the boy leaning up on his elbows, watching the boy between his legs with a worried expression.

"You're beautiful," Blaine said, kissing the side of Kurt's knee.

"Thank you," he replied, looking relieved. "So are you."

"I thought that the moment I saw you," Blaine continued, considering for a second before pressing light kisses up Kurt's thigh. He heard the other boy gasp and felt the thump of him falling flat onto the bed again. Blaine wanted to ask if this was alright, but he had a feeling Kurt would yell at him for being too much of a gentlemen, so he carried on, kissing and licking at Kurt's skin until he reached the juncture between thigh and hip. There he stopped, sucking at the skin. Kurt's skin tasted better than he knew a person's could and the scent of him, so strong where he was now, made his head spin. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to this boy.

He noticed that Kurt was whimpering, hips moving back and forth while Blaine continued to suck a mark into his skin. The shorter boy pulled back at once, having forgotten himself, so wrapped up in everything about Kurt. He put his hands on the back of Kurt's thighs to ground himself before lifting his head and kissing the head of Kurt's cock. The other boy let out a yell, arching his back. Encouraged, Blaine repeated the action, then sucked the head into his mouth. Kurt's eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned loudly. Blaine nearly pulled back to make sure he could carry on, but Kurt pushed on the back of his head; not with a great deal of force, but just enough to tell Blaine he was _not_ to take his mouth away. The shorter boy gripped Kurt's thighs harder and sank his mouth further down Kurt, trying to memorise the sensation of the weight on his tongue, of the other boy filling his mouth.

He felt Kurt's hips rocking back and forth and braced his forearm across them. He didn't think Kurt would deal well with him choking. He hollowed his cheeks, drawing slowly back up Kurt's length, unsure that he was doing it right. The way Kurt was keening and flexing his fingers against Blaine's scalp gave him some confidence. All of a sudden Kurt was tugging on his hair, pulling him back. Blaine pulled his lips off Kurt, trying not to notice the ridiculously erotic popping sound that made.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm far too close. We need to…we should…" Kurt was breathing too heavily to speak coherently. He tugged on Blaine's hair again and the other boy moved up over his husband's body, laying them chest to chest, both boys gasping at the skin-on-skin contact, and kissed him.

Blaine propped himself up on his forearms, groaning at the way Kurt moved to kiss his neck. He leaned across to the drawers by the bed. As the husband, he'd been informed that everything they'd need would be in there. He pulled the drawer open with more difficulty than normal – Kurt sucking on his collarbone was very distracting and his fingers kept slipping. Something clattered inside and he reached around blindly as Kurt's hands stroked up his back, then down, slipping daringly over his ass and making Blaine hiss.

"Okay, okay," he said, laughing. "Patience, Kurt."

"No," Kurt replied, sucking on Blaine's neck again.

Blaine succeeded in grabbing something which felt right and lifted his hand out of the drawer, dropping the pile onto the bed. He didn't even look at it, leaning down to kiss Kurt breathless instead.

He had to pull away soon, just to check that he'd got what he needed. A full, unopened bottle of lube and numerous condoms were on the pillow next to Kurt's head. The other boy turned to look at them.

"A bit ambitious, don't you think, Blaine?"

"Oh, shh, I couldn't see what I was doing. You're very distracting."

Kurt just hummed in reply and pulled Blaine's lips back to his. He was feeling insatiable. He heard the other boy pick up the bottle next to him and uncap it one-handed. "Kurt," Blaine mumbled against his lips, "I need to…"

Kurt let him go, still shocked by how much he wanted to keep kissing him. Blaine squirted some of the liquid onto his fingers, rubbing it around as he got used to the texture. He looked down at Kurt and saw the flash of nervousness across his features.

"Try to relax, okay?" He stroked the fingers of his clean hand through Kurt's hair and the other boy nodded, letting out a heavy breath. Blaine had to look away from his eyes to trail them down his body, letting his hand slip between Kurt's legs. The taller boy seemed to be undecided between spreading his legs wider and snapping them shut. Blaine kissed his knee, letting his lips linger for more time than was necessary. "We can wait for a little longer."

"No," Kurt said, placing his feet further apart. "Now. Now or I'll never do it."

"Kurt, that's not really encouraging."

"Blaine, please, just…"

Blaine looked up at him one last time, kissed his knee again, then flicked his eyes back to his hand, moving it slowly down behind Kurt's balls. He stroked at his perineum, just lightly, but Kurt gasped above him. He slipped his finger lower, tracing it over the puckered muscles of Kurt's entrance. Encouraged by Kurt's moans, Blaine pressed the tip of his finger inside. The way Kurt yelled in pain immediately made him want to pull back again.

"I'm sorry," he said, stroking Kurt's calf and keeping his finger completely still. He tried to stop himself from thinking about tight Kurt was around his finger, how hot he was. He had to concentrate on getting Kurt through this.

"It's fine. You can…go further," Kurt said, gripping the bed sheets in anticipation. Blaine complied, pushing his finger in slowly, right up to the knuckle. Kurt's breathing was becoming laboured as he stopped himself from screaming. He just had to focus on that tiny part of it that felt good. "Move, Blaine."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"It will get better," Kurt replied, even though he wasn't strictly sure if that was true. He just needed _something_ to happen.

Blaine drew his hand back, pulling his finger almost completely out of Kurt, then pushed it in again. The boy gasped above him and Blaine thought it sounded more like a sound of pleasure than pain. He set into a rhythm, pumping his finger out of Kurt and feeling the boy loosen around him. "Does it feel good?" he asked.

"It's better now," Kurt said before breaking off into a moan. "Another one."

Blaine nodded, more to himself than the other boy, then pulled out of Kurt. He picked up the lube again, spreading it over his fingers, before pressing two of them into Kurt's hole. Kurt's back arched as he let out a shout. The stretch burned, but there was something about it that made him want more. He reached a hand out blindly, scrabbling at air for a moment before Blaine gripped it, holding tightly. Kurt squeezed the other boy's hand and moaned as Blaine began to move his fingers back and forth, occasionally scissoring them. Soon, Blaine was pushing in deeper and moving his fingers inside Kurt, searching. He brushed against a nub deep inside Kurt and the other boy let out a scream of pleasure, fingernails biting into the skin of Blaine's hand.

"_Blaine_," Kurt moaned, writhing on the bed as the other boy smiled, brushing his fingers over the nerves again. Just as Kurt started to push back onto Blaine's fingers, trying to fuck himself on Blaine's hand, the other boy pulled out. Kurt gasped at the loss, pulling on the hand he was holding in protest. He managed to blink his eyes open and lift his head to watch Blaine pick up a condom, struggling to open.

"Just leave it," Kurt said.

"What?" Blaine looked up at Kurt. "No, we should use them."

"Blaine, we're married virgins. Just leave it."

Blaine frowned at the condom in his hand before placing it on the bedside table. "This goes against all the things I've ever been taught, you know."

"I know," Kurt said, carding his fingers through Blaine's hair and leaning up to kiss him softly. "But go with me on this."

Blaine sighed against Kurt's lips. "I can already tell how this relationship is going to go."

Kurt laughed and pushed Blaine's shoulder. "Stop it. Now, would you…?" He paused, not really wanted to specifically ask.

Blaine smiled at him, saving him from having to find a way to articulate it. "Of course." He kissed Kurt again, but this time it was hotter, bringing Kurt right back to the writhing mess he had been before. Blaine pulled back, both of them breathing heavily, and picked up the bottle of lube again. He squeezed some out and slicked up his cock. He looked up to see Kurt watching him with an almost hungry expression and he moaned, moving back to hover above the other boy. Kurt wrapped his legs around Blaine's hips and let Blaine reach a hand between them, aligning himself. They locked eyes. "Ready?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded, reaching up to cup Blaine's cheek. Blaine seemed to ground himself, then started to push inside, keeping his eyes on Kurt's all the while. The boy beneath him keened, face screwing up with the pain of the stretch, but didn't look away. Blaine moved slowly, pushing all the way in until he was buried completely inside Kurt. He let out a heavy breath and stilled himself. Kurt was tight, so much tighter than he'd imagined, and _hot_, god. It was so hard to stay still, but he did, watching Kurt's face as he adjusted.

"Okay," Kurt said after a minute. "You can move now."

Blaine pulled out slowly, as far as he could, before thrusting back in. The movement was harder than he had intended, but he hadn't been able to stop himself. Kurt, however, didn't seem to mind. He moaned, eyes closing in pleasure. Blaine ducked his head to suck at the other boy's neck, moaning against Kurt's skin as he continued to thrust into him. He kept his pace slow, letting them both get used to it. Kurt dug his heels into Blaine's back, pulling him deeper, then arched at the feeling. He let out a broken moan into Blaine's ear that made him push in faster.

They were lost from then. Neither could care that they had only met that day, that they were required to do this by law. They were wrapped up in each other's heat as they moved together, Blaine fucking into Kurt faster, deeper each time. Kurt returned each thrust, arms wrapping around Blaine's back and fingernails scratching at his skin. Blaine pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along Kurt's jaw. He captured Kurt's lips in messy kiss, their tongues searching each other's mouths desperately and Blaine pushed into him. Kurt suddenly pulled his mouth from Blaine's, head tilted back as he whined.

"There," he whimpered. "God, Blaine, there again. _Please_."

Blaine just moaned in response, hips snapping faster as he tried to hit Kurt's prostate each time. The other boy was unravelling underneath him, pulling Blaine closer with his legs and arms, kissing him passionately. Kurt could feel his orgasm building deep inside him, uncoiling, hot tongues licking at his muscles.

"Blaine," he said against the other boy's lips, hips thrusting to meet Blaine's, "I'm so close."

"Me too," Blaine moaned, thrusting erratically into Kurt's heat. He reached between their bodies, slick with sweat, and wrapped a hand around Kurt's cock. He pumped it only a couple of times and Kurt was arching into him, a moan ripped from his throat as he came between them. The sight of Kurt's head thrown back in ecstasy and the way his muscles tightened around Blaine sent the other boy over the edge. He stilled inside Kurt, wrapped around him completely, and his orgasm hit him. He came deep inside the other boy, moaning Kurt's name into his ear.

They stayed like that for a moment, suspended, before Blaine's arms gave out and he fell onto Kurt's chest. They were breathing heavily, Kurt still holding Blaine tight against him. Blaine shifted, pulling out of Kurt, and the taller boy whimpered at how empty he felt. He dropped his legs from around Blaine's waist, too weak to hold them there any longer. Blaine grabbed one of the towels that had been placed at the end of the bed and wiped their chests clean, then lay against Kurt's side, letting the other boy put his arms around him again. He threw an arm across Kurt's chest and rested his head in the crook of his neck, their legs tangled together.

"That was…" Kurt's whisper trailed off.

"I know." Blaine pulled himself closer, kissing Kurt's neck. "Can I say something crazy?"

Kurt entwined his fingers with Blaine's where they rested on his chest. "You can say anything to me."

"It might scare you."

Kurt twisted his neck to press his lips to Blaine's. "Say it."

Blaine stared up at him. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

Kurt watched him for a couple of seconds, then broke into a grin. "That's not crazy," he said. "It's…it's actually wonderful, because I think I'm falling in love with you, too."

* * *

><p><em>AN: _Thank you to everyone who has favourited, reviewed and story alerted this story. After a great deal of deliberation, I have decided to write more in this 'verse, now titled the Legally Wed 'verse. Each 'chapter' posted in this story will be a one-shot, but they will not necessarily be in chronological order. I really hope you enjoy reading this 'verse as much as I have enjoyed writing it.__


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: This is one of the few times these one-shots will be chronological. It takes places the morning after Under Oath._

* * *

><p><em>The State of Affairs<em>

Soft sunlight licked through the gap in the curtains, staining the walls to the colour of half-mixed coffee froth. Everything was warm and still, stuck in the moment between slumber and waking. As the two boys slipped towards consciousness, they became aware of being wrapped up in something warm, pressed against something solid, curled close to something comforting. Blaine tilted his chin up, still on the edge of sleep, and his nose nestled into a soft dip. He breathed in and smiled as the sweet scent filled up his head. He tried to move closer to the soft something, wrapping his arm tighter around it. As he shifted, tendrils of cognition spread themselves further across his mind and he noticed that there was skin against his and a warm body beneath him. His senses caught up with each other all at once and he realised: Kurt.

He gave a contented sigh and tucked face into the crook of the boy's neck. He felt Kurt's breathing speed up from the slow inhale and exhale of sleep and his muscles move against Blaine's as he shifted a little. A small moan came from him which Blaine felt vibrate from Kurt's body into his. There was the sound of movement, then long fingers were brushing through his curls. At last, Blaine blinked his eyes open. He pressed a kiss to Kurt's skin, then leaned his head back to look at the other boy. Kurt's eyes were almost green in the sleepy sunlight and still drowsy.

"Good morning," he said, grinning sleepily at the other boy.

"Good morning." Blaine held himself back for a moment, but decided it wouldn't be that bad of an idea. He stretched his neck up to press his lips against Kurt's. The other boy kissed him back, gently, hand moving to cradle Blaine's cheek and hold him there. Blaine's fingers flexed and gripped the skin of Kurt's hip as the other boy tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

When they broke apart, they were breathless. Kurt let his head fall back onto the pillow and Blaine returned his head to Kurt's neck. He pressed little kisses up and down one of the tendons, just brushing his collarbone and the hollow behind his ear. Kurt let out a whimper and gripped Blaine's shoulder.

"I shouldn't want you this much this early in the morning," he said, whimpering again when Blaine tugged on his earlobe with his teeth.

The other boy pulled away, planting his hand on the other side of Kurt's chest and pushing himself up to look his husband in the face. "There's no 'should' or 'shouldn't' with us, okay? We have enough of that from the rest of the world. We don't need it from each other."

Kurt smiled and cupped Blaine's cheek again. "How come I got you? Out of all the gay boys in the world, how did I end up with you?"

"Fate," Blaine teased and dropped down to kiss Kurt again. Kurt lifted himself up on his elbows to kiss back, but pulled away with a gasp. His face screwed up in pain and he immediately lay flat again.

"God, that hurts."

"Kurt, what's wrong?"

"I…" A blush spread across Kurt's cheeks and he looked away from Blaine. "It just hurts because…because of last night."

"Oh," Blaine said, mouth open and head cocked to the side. Then his eyes widened. "_Oh_. Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry. I didn't realise I was so—"

"It was always going to hurt. Don't worry about it," Kurt said, head still turned way.

Blaine leaned down on one elbow, lifting his other hand to stroke Kurt's cheek. "Please don't feel about embarrassed about this." He kissed Kurt's temple. "I just wish there was something I could do."

Kurt turned his head, bright eyes capturing Blaine's. A hand stroked the back of Blaine's neck and a foot stroked up the back of his calf. "You could lie here with me and make me forget about it."

"Kurt, I don't think that will improve anything."

Kurt let out a soft laugh and closed his eyes with an endeared expression on his face. "I didn't ask you to sleep with me," he said, "I just asked you to lie with me. I want you to hold me."

Blaine rested his forehead against Kurt's. "I'm ridiculous, aren't I?"

"No, not at all." Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders and pulled the other boy down onto his chest. Blaine, however, rolled off him. "What are you doing?" Kurt asked.

"You said you wanted me to hold you," Blaine said. He put an arm around Kurt's chest and dragged the other boy's torso to lay slightly over his own. He brought his other arm under Kurt's shoulders, pulling him closer. "So I'm holding you."

Kurt smiled and turned his head onto Blaine's chest as he reached an arm up behind him to wrap around the other boy's neck. "Thank you."

They lay in silence for a while, each simply feeling the other breathe. Kurt soon dropped his arm from around Blaine's neck to rest it across his husband's stomach. He stroked his finger in patterns across Blaine's skin and gained an appreciative hum in return.

The doorbell rang and both boys paused. Kurt looked questioningly up at Blaine. "Who—?"

"I have no idea." He frowned. "I'll go."

Kurt lifted himself off Blaine's chest and lay back as the other boy pulled open a couple of the boxes piled on one side of the room and quickly tugged on boxers, jeans and a t-shirt. Blaine jogged out of the room with a 'back in a minute' just as the doorbell rang a second time. He ran down the stairs and as he approached the door he could see the outline of a large man through the frosted glass. He flicked the latch and pulled the door back, looking up at the suited man standing in the doorway.

"Can I help you?"

The man pulled an ID card out of his pocket. Blaine saw the governmental seal and felt his stomach drop.

"I'm from the Ohio State Department of Domestic Regulation. I'm just here to check everything's going as it should be."

"Right. Yes, of course, come in." Blaine stood aside, allowing the man into the house and shutting the door behind him. "Um, I'm Blaine Anderson, but I guess you know that, right?"

"Yes," the man said, looking around the hallway before walking into the living room with Blaine following him. There was only the government-provided sofa by ways of furniture, but there were more boxes in piles in the corner. "Where is the other Mr Anderson?" The man asked, turning to Blaine.

"H-he's upstairs. Do you need to see him?"

"I need to make sure that you have obeyed the federal law, Mr Anderson. I need to speak with both of you."

"Right, of course. Could you give us a few minutes? You're…welcome to sit down."

The man nodded and settled himself on the sofa. Blaine hurried out of the room and back up to their bedroom, throwing open the door to find Kurt buttoning up his shirt. "Did you hear?" he asked, closing it behind him.

"Yes." Kurt looked at him with wide eyes, tucking his shirt into his trousers. "What do you think he's going to do?"

"He said he has to talk to us, but I don't know whether that's it." He walked to stand in front of Kurt and put an arm around him, hand resting lightly on the small of his back. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. It's better now I've started moving. I guess if I'm limping it will at least prove we obeyed the law."

Blaine smiled, but there was no amusement in it. "Come on," he said, putting his arm around Kurt's waist and leading him out of the room.

Kurt tried to smile politely at the man on their sofa, but he wasn't sure he managed it. He took the other seat on the sofa, wincing only slightly, and Blaine pulled up a box.

"The two of you were married yesterday at eleven am, correct?" The man had pulled a folder from his briefcase and was flicking through it.

"Yes."

The interviewer – or at least that's what they assumed he was – checked his watch and jotted down what was presumably the time on one of his forms. "You have now been married for just under twenty-five hours. Now," he looked up at them both, "you are aware that you must have consummated the marriage within a twenty-four hour period?"

They both nodded, not daring to look away from him and at each other. Imprisonment due to potentially suspicious action was not an option.

The man gave them a polite smile which seemed out of place in the conversation. He made a ticking movement with his pen on the same form. "Are the two of you happy with your accommodation?"

Blaine couldn't help shooting Kurt a look. That was not the kind of question they had been expecting; it was altogether too considerate.

"Yes," Kurt said, sliding his eyes away from Blaine's, "it's great. We know there wasn't anything available in Lima, but this is close enough." He tried to smile, but he was sure it came off a little forced. He'd wanted to ask for New York or Los Angeles or another of the big cities, but the government always provided in-state housing for at least one of the people in the marriage. As a general rule, they tried to pair people from the same state together, which was how Kurt ended up with Blaine, who had lived so close to him all his life. Their house was two hours drive from Lima, further from Westerville, but it was the closest they had been offered. Kurt had never thought he'd be asking to stay near to his tiny home town, but he'd come to realise that nothing was going to turn out the way he had imagined it.

"Are all your facilities working correctly?"

"I…think so?" Kurt said, looking at Blaine with a questioning look.

"We haven't really used any of them," Blaine said.

"That's fine," the man said, writing something down. "Just give us a call if you find any problems."

The whole interview was surreally normal. They were asked whether they needed any more furniture, whether they wanted to go to college and if so where, whether they were considering careers. The man paid noticeably more attention when Kurt spoke about what he wanted to do with his life. His hand moved swiftly across the page so Blaine was partially convinced he was copying Kurt's words down exactly as they had been spoken. There was a nod when he was finished, then a question about children that resulted in an awkward 'we're not sure yet' and more words on the form.

The questions stopped after about half an hour. The man smiled at them again and shut his folder, tucking the pen into his top pocket. "Mr Anderson," he said, turning to Kurt, "I will need to talk to you alone now."

"Why?" Blaine said, sitting up a little straighter. Kurt shot him a look with narrowed eyes.

"It's just standard procedure. Would you please show me to your bedroom?"

Kurt's eyes widened at the words but he nodded, standing up as the other man did. Blaine grabbed his hand so Kurt turned to look at him. He tried to give him the most reassuring look he could. "I'll be in the kitchen when you're done."

Kurt nodded and let go of Blaine's hand, leading the man out of the room and up the stairs.

* * *

><p>"How was it?" Blaine asked, looking up as Kurt came into the kitchen. He'd heard the sound of feet on the stairs and the door shutting a few moments before. The other boy went straight to the coffee machine – one of the few things they had unpacked – and busied himself with it.<p>

"Fine," he replied. Blaine watched him carefully, noting the tension in his back and the way he was gripping everything he picked up a bit too hard.

"Kurt," he said, voice much softer, "what happened?"

"Nothing. He just asked me some questions, checked our bedsheets."

Blaine stood up and came up behind him. He pried Kurt's hands from the machine and turned him to face him, holding his arms gently. "That's not all. Kurt, what did he do?"

The other boy's face crumpled and he curled into Blaine, wrapping his arms around him and letting out a sob into his shoulder. "It was horrible. I feel so…I feel dirty. Violated."

"Kurt, what—"

"He _examined_ me. God, just thinking about it makes me feel sick." Kurt took in a shuddering breath, gripping the fabric of Blaine's t-shirt tight in his hands. The shorter boy rubbed between his shoulder blades and pressed a tentative kiss to his hair.

"Do…do you mean he…?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry. If I'd known, I wouldn't have let him in the house."

Kurt laughed into his shoulder and the lack of humour in it cut at Blaine in a way he hadn't been expecting. He instinctively pulled Kurt closer. "And get yourself arrested?" Kurt asked. "Don't apologise, Blaine. I should have guessed this is what would happen."

"But surely that's…it's harassment, Kurt!"

"Not when the state does it."

Blaine bit his lip and rested his chin on Kurt's head. He couldn't believe he'd left Kurt alone with that man, the one whose name they'd never been told. He'd touched Kurt in a way he never should have and Blaine just wished he could have taken Kurt's place. He wanted to take the other boy's pain and humiliation and let Kurt stop feeling this way. He looked around them, holding Kurt as close as he could, and tried to think of what he could do. There had to be a way he could fix this, or at least start to help.

He pulled back with a kiss to Kurt's forehead. "Come on," Blaine said, keeping one arm firmly around Kurt as he walked them up the stairs to the bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

Blaine leant over the bath, put in the plug and turned the taps on, testing the water temperature before straightening up and turning to Kurt. "You are going to have a bath. Trust me, you will feel better."

Kurt nodded, then started to blush bright red.

"What is it?"

"Will you…will you take a bath with me? I just don't want to be alone right now and I – I quite like the idea of letting you wash me, as weird as that sounds."

"It's not weird at all," Blaine said, taking Kurt's hands in his own. "I was actually kind of hoping that you'd ask me that. I didn't think you'd want to considering…"

"I'd feel safer with you. You'll help me forget."

Blaine smiled, stroking his thumbs over Kurt's knuckles. He pressed a kiss to the other boy's cheek and bumped their noses together. Then he stepped closer to Kurt and reached to pull his shirt free of his trousers. "Can I?"

"Yes."

Kurt leaned his head into Blaine's neck as the other boy pulled the hem of the shirt free and undid the buttons. He pushed it off Kurt's shoulders, letting his hands trail down the other boy's arms more than was necessary. The garment dropped to the floor and Blaine moved his hands to the buttons of Kurt's jeans. He unbuttoned each one carefully before stepping a little closer and pushing them over Kurt's hips, taking his underwear with them. The other boy pushed off his shoes, the quickest ones he had found to put on, and the jeans and briefs pooled around his ankles. He stepped out of them, towards Blaine, and brought his hands to the other boy's hips.

Blaine pulled his own t-shirt over his head, Kurt just watching all of the muscles in his chest and arms shift with the movement. When Blaine balled the shirt up and threw it somewhere on the floor, Kurt brought his hands up to Blaine's shoulders, running his fingertips over them. He traced along Blaine's collarbones, then pressed a soft kiss to the other boy's shoulder. He made swift work of the buttons and zip on Blaine's jeans, pushing them to floor with the boxers and the two of them were fully naked, standing so close but not quite touching as the room steamed up. Blaine looked back and, seeing that the bath was full, turned off the taps. He held out a hand to Kurt and allowed the boy to lean on him as he stepped into the hot water. Blaine climbed in behind him, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist.

"You okay?"

"Definitely."

Blaine kissed the side of Kurt's neck and sat down in the water. He reached up and put his hands on Kurt's hips. The other boy lowered himself more slowly, hissing at the slight pain it caused. At last he settled between Blaine's legs and leaned his back against the other boy's chest.

Blaine picked up the bar of soap that had been set at the end of the bath before their arrival and unwrapped it. He rubbed it between his hands in front of Kurt's chest, letting bubbles froth up in his finger-gaps, then held it out for the other boy to hold it. Kurt took it, letting it slide slowly between his hands as Blaine lifted his palms to Kurt's shoulders. He started to stroke large, soap-lathered circles across Kurt's skin, up and down his arms, right down to his hands. There he took the soap again, dipped it into the water.

He set up a pattern: soap, lather, skin. He worked methodically all across Kurt's torso, then pulled away from him to do the same to his back. He worked his fingertips into the skin, easing Kurt's muscles into looseness. He felt Kurt relax under his hands and smiled at the back of the boy's head, glad he could at least do something.

As Blaine stroked his hand across Kurt's stomach again, the taller boy put his hand over Blaine's, slotting his fingers into the gaps between the other's and sliding their hands up to rest over his heart. He let them lie there, allowing Blaine to feel Kurt's heartbeat against his palm. He hooked his chin over Kurt's shoulder and closed his eyes, just breathing the other boy in. The bath water was still hot, running down their skin, condensing on them in places. Kurt smelled like hot water and lavender soap; like clean skin and contentment. Blaine nudged his nose into the dip behind Kurt's ear, eyes still shut, letting his other senses experience Kurt. He brushed his lips against the water-damp skin for a moment.

"Thank you," Kurt said. The words, quiet as they were, echoed off the tiles of the room. They vibrated through Kurt's chest, his back, into Blaine. He could feel them as much as he could hear them.

"For what?"

Blaine heard and felt the water lap and splash a little, meaning Kurt had probably shifted one of his feet. "For this. For earlier, for last night, for everything."

Blaine kissed Kurt's skin again, for longer this time. He slid his other hand from where it had been resting on his husband's hip around to his stomach, so his arm was wrapped around his waist. He pressed tiny kisses at the juncture between neck and shoulder, warming the skin even more with his breath and lips. Kurt gave a small moan of pleasure and Blaine felt the sound again. He reached into air with the hand Kurt wasn't holding and was given the bar of soap once more. He rolled it in circles in one hand, feeling the soap suds build up in his palm as he licked at Kurt's skin.

When Kurt took the bar from him, he tilted his head, resting it against Kurt's neck. He reached out and found Kurt's left knee. He rubbed his hand slowly, cyclically, from knee to water level. Then a quick swipe back up Kurt's thigh, over his knee, and with a stretch from Blaine's shoulder, just once down the front of his calf with a slow draw back up. He lifted their joined hands and slipped his behind Kurt's. He opened his eyes now, leaning his head over Kurt's shoulder to kiss the other boy's palm. He couldn't stop himself from licking it a tiny bit, but he didn't regret it when he felt Kurt's shiver.

"Soap," he said, voice cracking from the heat of the room and his sudden need to touch Kurt. The other boy doused the bar in water and handed it back to Blaine's cupped palms. Lather again, then skin. Both thighs this time and Kurt leaned his head back onto Blaine's shoulder, eyes closed and mouth open around gasped breaths.

Blaine stroked firm lines with his palms up the centre of each thigh, but stopped abruptly. He scrambled for the soap, which the two of them had dropped into the water. He found it on the bottom of the bath and lifted it out to press the fingertips and thumb of each hand against it, coating them. He let the soap fall into the bath again and brought his soapy fingertips to Kurt's thighs. He brushed them lightly, barely at all, up and down the outsides. Kurt moaned against him, pressing his back closer to Blaine's chest. Blaine took the skin of Kurt's shoulder between his teeth, tugging it softly before releasing it.

He walked his middle and index fingers up the middle of Kurt's thighs until he hit the other boy's knees. Then, as gently as he could, he let his fingertips draw tiny circles on the inside of Kurt's knees. The boy let out a choked sound and one arm came up behind him to wrap around Blaine's neck. The action pressed Kurt's hips back into Blaine's, against the boy's swiftly-hardening cock. Kurt gasped and stretched his neck further back. Blaine turned to kiss it again, pressing his lips just next to Kurt's Adam's apple. He wanted to stop and ask if Kurt really wanted to do this so soon after what had happened, but he knew Kurt better now. He understood that his husband would stop if he wanted to stop, and he had a feeling that what he was doing was holding Kurt together, not breaking him apart.

So he dipped his hands into the water again, looking down over Kurt's shoulder, over his chest, to where Kurt was just as hard as he was. That assured Blaine more than words probably would have, so he sat back again, chin just resting on his husband's shoulder. He rubbed his newly wetted hands against each other, making the soap lather anew, then brought his fingertips back to Kurt's skin. This time, he let them brush slightly further up the insides of Kurt's thighs, not just at his knees. He drew barely-there lines back and forth, back and forth over two inches of skin until Kurt was keening and there were goosebumps under Blaine's fingertips.

Blaine had never really considered the sensitivity of the inside of someone's thigh before. He had understandably focused on the noticeable places, the well-known ones. He thought of legs as an abstract sexual thing, something attractive, but with no established sexual use. Now, as his fingers drew little circles higher and higher up Kurt's legs, and the boy started to quiver against him, Blaine understood. He could almost _feel _the sensitivity of this part of Kurt's body. Through the other boy, he knew how much the light brushes against this intimately placed skin could unravel a person. So he kept going, circling higher, increment by increment. His hands were back underwater again, but it didn't matter. The water only heightened it, making his skin catch on Kurt's every now and again.

When he reached the very top of Kurt's thigh, the point where they met his pelvis, he paused. There was a dip there and the skin was soft. Blaine pressed his fingers harder, then released. Hard, release; tiny pulses of pressure on Kurt's skin. The boy's other hand came up to grab at Blaine's curls. Kurt turned his head, kissing at Blaine's ear, his cheekbone, until Blaine turned his, too. Their lips met and Blaine could feel Kurt's lack of control. It wasn't tentative or overly respectful: it was hot, almost desperate, and their teeth clacked once when Kurt tugged on his hair with a whine. Blaine didn't care. Kurt's tongue was pressing against his own, drawing over his teeth and all over his mouth. His husband was moaning against his lips and Blaine could feel it through Kurt's back, through his neck, through his mouth, through his fingertips. He could feel the sound through his whole body and still, still, the pulses of pressure against Kurt's skin.

Kurt pulled away from the kiss to take a few deep breaths of air before letting his lips slide over Blaine's again. He nipped at the other boy's bottom lip, loving how Blaine moaned, his fingers stopping, pressed hard into Kurt's skin.

"More," Kurt said into Blaine's mouth. Blaine understood, and moved his hands closer together. They slid over Kurt's skin, one hand letting the nails scratch a little. Kurt's hips bucked and their kiss broke again. Kurt's head dropped back as he leaned completely against Blaine, just letting the other boy trace his fingertips back and forth around the base of his cock. All the way round, each hand drawing one half of the circle, meeting, parting, drawing with fingerprints. "Blaine, please."

A kiss pressed to Kurt's neck and finally Blaine's hand wrapped around him, grip tight, making Kurt moan in a way that made his husband appreciate bathroom acoustics. Blaine started slow, languorous strokes to Kurt's cock. They were controlled, torturously so, and Kurt was panting uselessly. Blaine brought his other hand up out of the water, stroking it palm-flat up Kurt's stomach to his chest. Then, fist keeping a steady pace on Kurt's cock, he traced his finger around the edge of Kurt's nipple. Both hands moved in time; slow, maddening strokes. Kurt turned his head towards Blaine, his breath hitting the other boy's ear.

"Fuck, Blaine, don't do this to me."

He shivered at the words, but didn't stop. Kurt's voice had been wrecked: low, indolent with lust, and broken. The sound was stuck in Blaine's mind, replaying itself as his grip tightened around Kurt and his pace increased just a tiny bit. Kurt moaned, though, and there was relief in it. Blaine was giving him what he so desperately needed, but it was still muddling him, making the hot room hotter and his thoughts thicker until it was just feeling; just Blaine's hand on his cock, thumb rubbing over the head for a second; just Blaine's thumb and forefinger pressing around his nipple, pushing the boundaries of oversensitivity; just that building need for release spreading through his body, into his muscles, resonating in his bones.

Blaine's movements stopped and Kurt cried out. Blaine turned and pressed his lips to Kurt's, silencing him. He pulled back and looked Kurt in the eyes as he brought his thumb to the head of Kurt's cock once more, rubbing it slowly along the slit until Kurt was moaning, eyes wide as he stared at Blaine. His other hand trailed down Kurt's body to rest on the inside of the other boy's thigh. He let his thumb brush all around the head, circles again, slow. Kurt's eyes screwed shut and he whined into Blaine's neck. He could feel his orgasm building in him again and he needed it so much, but it wouldn't happen like this. It was too slow and Blaine knew that. His fingertips started up on the inside of Kurt's thigh again and Kurt felt tears in his eyes because he couldn't _stand_ it.

"_Blaine_," he choked.

The other boy just pressed his lips to Kurt's neck again. He licked at the small lump of bone in Kurt's shoulder, swirling his tongue in circles around it before leaning forwards, curving himself over Kurt to lick all the way up his collar bone. Kurt shuddered as Blaine settled behind him again, dick pressing into Kurt's back. He nipped at the skin all along Kurt's neck, returning his hand to its leisurely movement up and down Kurt's length. The other boy's back arched, trying to push faster into the circle of Blaine's fist, trying to get _something_. Blaine pulled harshly on Kurt's earlobe with his teeth and stopped moving altogether. Kurt whined and thrashed his legs.

When he stilled, sinking against Blaine in defeat, the movements started again. Blaine added a brush over the head with every stroke, just enough to make Kurt writhe. The fingers of his other hand danced higher up Kurt's leg, brushing close to his balls – but not quite close enough – and slipping just once over his perineum. Kurt's arms slammed down onto the sides of the bath, fingers gripping the ceramic hard. The fingers were gone again, back to his thigh, and the pace of Blaine's hand was slowing again to a dragging, catching crawl that set Kurt's teeth on edge. A tiny moan escaped Kurt's mouth every time he breathed out and he was powerless to stop it. His whole body was tingling, like Blaine was pushing on every nerve and stoppering it so he was full of electric, vibrating energy that he just _couldn't_ release.

Kurt couldn't help the way his hips started jerking in tiny circles, seeking out the friction Blaine was denying him. Tiny, rippling waves of warm water spread from his sides, lapping at the walls of the tub, his fingers curling into the porcelain edges as the tip of Blaine's dick slid along his crack. He moaned helplessly, utterly unable to contain himself and if it hadn't been for – no, he wouldn't think about it; couldn't think about it. Not when Blaine's hands were soft and drifting and just barely pumping his cock.

He ground backwards, unable to help himself, and Blaine moaned, his hands stilling. His skin was hot where his legs pressed against the outside of Kurt's and his chest was stuck to Kurt's back. His harsh, shallow breaths were hotter on Kurt's neck. Kurt squirmed, desperate for Blaine's hands to start up again and just let him _come_, but it was to no avail. Blaine just kissed Kurt's neck again, open-mouthed, licking each spot he pressed his lips to. He bit at the juncture between neck and shoulder, sucking hard on the skin, flicking his tongue back and forth over it.

Kurt tangled the fingers of one hand into Blaine's hair and wrenched his head backwards. Blaine's neck stretched back and he gasped. Kurt let his head flop onto Blaine's shoulder again. "Please, Blaine," he whined. "_Please_."

Suddenly, Blaine's hand was stroking him again, but it wasn't slow any more. It was fast, hard strokes and his other hand was gone from Kurt's thigh, reaching back and squeezing his balls and Kurt was gone. His back arched away from Blaine's chest and he yelled as the orgasm that had building inside him for so long was ripped from him. His hips lifted out of the water as he came over Blaine's hand, the edge of the bath, his stomach.

Then he slumped. He dropped back into the bath, water splashing around him. He fell against Blaine's chest and just lay there, panting, unable to move. Blaine's hand dropped from his cock, arm wrapping around his waist to stop him from slipping under the water. He could feel Blaine pressing kisses to his hair, his cheek, his neck, but he couldn't reciprocate. It seemed like he was working to stay conscious as pleasure still coursed through his body.

He felt Blaine shift behind him, causing the water to slap against Kurt's weak legs. Blaine was pulling him upwards, closer, to hold Kurt to him. With the movement, though, Blaine's cock slipped into the cleft of Kurt's ass, sliding until the tip hit the other boy's balls. Blaine had been hard for so long, just as worked up as Kurt, and that tiny bit of intimate friction was enough. He cried out, fingers digging into Kurt's side and leg, and he came so hard his whole body shook.

They were still. Their bodies lay pliant against each other, only the way they were angled in the bath stopping them from sinking into submersion. Kurt knew there were many things he wanted to say, but every time he thought he had a sentence, it slipped from him. He gave up and just let himself be against the other boy. They stayed like that for so long – until they were prune-skinned and shivering. When they did climb out and Blaine wordlessly dried Kurt with a towel, they couldn't stop staring at each other. Kurt wondered if he should be feeling this content, but realised as he let Blaine rub the towel over his hair with a tender expression, that this was how it was supposed to happen. This was the effect a bath with his husband was supposed to have.

* * *

><p>It was a few weeks before Kurt was ready to have any kind of penetrative sex. They had handjobs and blowjobs and nights when they just lay in bed and talked, learning about each other's lives with their fingers entwined between them. There was one night when Kurt turned his head on his pillow and studied Blaine's profile, thinking about something he knew he shouldn't. Blaine sensed it and turned his head, too, so they were face to face. He looked into Kurt's eyes and the other boy could tell Blaine knew what he was thinking. Blaine blinked slowly and Kurt knew he meant no. Not 'no, Kurt, I don't want you inside me', but 'no, Kurt, what if they find out? I can't risk that with you'. Kurt gave a shrug and shuffled closer to kiss him until they fell asleep.<p>

They were sprawled in the sunshine, a blanket covering the ground beneath their backs. The small tree in their garden was throwing shadow dapples over their faces and arms. Blaine had long since abandoned the book he had been reading aloud to the other boy in favour of kissing him. Their legs were tangled together and their hands cupping each other's faces, their kisses lazy like the sunlight, but edged with need.

Kurt broke apart from Blaine to look him in the eyes, stroking a hand through the other boy's hair. There was nothing but trust in that look and he smiled, bumping his nose against the other boy's.

"Here?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah."

Blaine pressed him back into the blanket with another kiss. They made love right there in the garden, shaded by their tree, with the light in patches across their skin and the gasps of summer in their ears.

* * *

><p><em>AN 9th December 2011: I would like to thank everyone for continuing to be wonderful about this story. I just wanted to clarify that this is not a multi-chaptered fic in the normal sense. It's a 'verse, so each story stands on its own, although they should, for the sake of comprehension, be read in order. For this site, I have just put all the stories for this 'verse in one place: Under Oath (which isn't technically correct because the 'verse name is Legally Wed, but ssh). Do note, however, that there will be at least one story in this 'verse for another pairing which I will post separately. So. If I haven't updated in a while, don't worry: I haven't abandoned this story. It's just that these aren't chapters and they aren't chronological, so they often take longer to decide on content for and write. I also currently have a great deal of stuff to do, so writing fic has to be done far more infrequently. Once we reach holiday time, everything should get better. You're all lovely, thank you. *blows klisses*_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Hello again! It's been a long time. This part is where the story stops being chronological. Blaine and Kurt's life together will be built up back and forth across the years._

_This is what Blaine and Kurt's apartment looks like: _

http : / / streeteasy . com /nyc/building/chelsea-mews

http: / / www. cityrealty. com /nyc/chelsea/chelsea-mews-148-west-23rd-street/14 (just take the spaces out)

_Big thanks to Andy (silverdragon77) for helping me find it, among other things._

_If you have any questions about this fic, or about the world created here, don't hesitate to ask on my tumblr, cirisamorpheus. Anything relating to this series will be tagged 'legally wed' and you can find a link to that page in the sidebar._

_Housekeeping over, go forth and read. Hope you enjoy._

* * *

><p><em>Bond Maturity<em>

Mr and Mr Blaine Anderson  
>148 W. 23rd St. Apt. 8C<br>New York, NY 10011

Dear sirs,

You may be aware of the recent development in the homosexual marriage laws regarding divorce. We are writing to you to confirm the new law.

Homosexuals who have been married for ten years may now file for divorce if they are still dissatisfied with their union. Divorce is not possible for homosexuals who have been married for less than ten years. In order to achieve dissolution of the union, both partners must put forward their personal case for dissatisfaction. The case must be made to the department of the state in which they were married and not in the state of current residence, if the two are different.

The change set out above may or may not currently affect you. Regardless, we ask that you take it into account. Please be aware, however, that divorce will not be easily granted, so take some time for reflection before deciding to end your marriage.

We hope this new development is clear to you. Please contact us if you have any questions.

Yours sincerely,

Amanda Leighton

Head of Domestic Affairs  
>Ohio State Department of Domestic Regulation<p>

* * *

><p>"Are you finished?"<p>

"Yeah," Blaine said, dropping the letter onto the kitchen table. "Well."

"There's still five years until we can—"

"I don't want to, Kurt. I don't care that we can."

Kurt smiled and Blaine hated that he looked relieved. Kurt pressed a kiss to his lips and Blaine cupped his cheeks, holding the moment; extending it. When they broke apart, he kept his hands on Kurt's cheeks, stroking his thumbs over his cheekbones.

"I don't want to, either. I love you," Kurt said, and Blaine just had to kiss him again.

"I love you. Now, can we not talk about this again? I think we've come to a mutual agreement."

Kurt chuckled and wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck. "Consider it forgotten." He slanted his lips over Blaine's again, licking his tongue into his mouth and dragging him out of the kitchen to their bedroom.

They spent the afternoon curled around each other, murmuring words of love and forever against each other's skin. Kurt only dragged himself out of bed many hours later to bring them sustenance. He placed a board of crackers and cheese on the covers and waved something at Blaine's back. Blaine whined softly and rolled over, frowning up at him. Kurt laughed at his expression, handing the piece of paper to Blaine.

"What…?" Blaine looked at the state headed paper and his frown deepened.

Kurt leaned down and kissed his forehead. He slid down the bed to lie close to him, pulling Blaine's head onto his shoulder and striking a match on the side of the box. Blaine laughed, then, and held the paper out so Kurt could set it alight. Kurt tangled one leg between Blaine's; Blaine wrapped a hand around Kurt's forearm; and they watched it burn.

* * *

><p>Nine years, eleven months and thirty days. Blaine pressed his fingertips into the skin of Kurt's hip, watching how his eyelashes fanned across his skin as he slept. He bit his lip, trying to multiply in his head. Sixty multiplied by twenty-four… one thousand two hundred… So one thousand six hundred and… Forty. So one thousand six hundred and forty multiplied by three hundred and sixty five… But what about leap years?<p>

Blaine sighed and looked at the clock.

Ten years.

They had been married ten years and less than sixty seconds.

He pressed his lips to Kurt's, stroking a hand up and down his side. Kurt made a small, sleep-filled sound and Blaine smiled against his cheek. He kissed each of his eyelids and across one cheekbone, then pressed their lips together again.

When he pulled back, Kurt's eyes fluttered open.

"Hi."

"Mmm." Blaine could feel Kurt pointing his toes and stretching his legs, scrunching his nose up. "Hi."

"Happy tenth anniversary."

Kurt turned his head on the pillow to look at the clock. A smile crept across his face and he put a hand to Blaine's cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Ten years is such a long time."

"Not long enough."

Kurt snorted and hit Blaine's arm. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," Blaine teased, slipping his arms around Kurt's waist and drawing him close. "But you love me for it."

Kurt just rolled his eyes and pushed Blaine onto his back, climbing on top of him. He slotted their hips together and not for the first time Blaine was unbelievably glad they slept naked. Kurt was pressing open mouthed kisses against his neck, nipping lightly at the skin. They were rocking against each other and Blaine gripped Kurt's ass to pull him closer and then Kurt was gone, sliding down Blaine's body with a trail of kisses.

Blaine leaned his head back, closing his eyes and moaning softly when Kurt's tongue started kitten-licking at his cock. He stroked his fingers through Kurt's hair. His mind slipped a little, even when Kurt was taking him in his mouth, sucking on the head: ten years. It wasn't a lifetime, but it was the promise of one. Blaine wanted a lifetime. He wanted forever and beyond, but even when he was curling his fingers against Kurt's scalp he just wasn't _sure_ that that's what Kurt wanted. Their contract was up. They didn't have to do it any more. They could get divorced if they wanted. Blaine knew he could never leave Kurt, but if Kurt wanted to say goodbye to him… Blaine loved him too much to try to stop him.

His cock hit the back of Kurt's throat and he blinked his eyes open, everything that was happening rushing back in frightening Technicolor. He let out a stuttered moan and pulled on Kurt's hair. Kurt's mouth slipped off him and Blaine was whining, protesting. Kurt chuckled, crawling back up his body. "I want this to last, Blaine."

"Was that an insult?" Blaine panted, mouth opening around a silent gasp when Kurt started sucking at the joint of his jaw.

"You'd think a decade would make you less sensitive." He laughed at his choice of words and traced a fingertip around Blaine's nipple. Blaine bucked up into him. "Mmm, definitely no change."

Blaine growled and lifted his head to catch Kurt's lips in a bruising kiss. He tugged on his bottom lip, hands slipping around to his ass and fingertips pressing hard into the flesh. Kurt pushed hard against him, taking advantage of Blaine's open mouth at the feeling and licking past his lips.

They slipped into rocking again, vacillating from slow, rhythmic slides with lazy kisses, to frantic rutting, open mouths just pressing against each other, breathing into each other.

"Kurt, Kurt," Blaine whispered, lips brushing against Kurt's, hands cupping his neck. "Kurt, please, I want you."

Kurt hummed against his mouth, hand scrabbling in the drawer and pulling out the bottle of lube. "I know," he murmured, sucking on Blaine's jaw.

"No, Kurt." He gasped when Kurt's hips rocked particularly hard against his own and their cocks were lined up against each other just so and he was sure his eyes rolled back in his head. "_Kurt_. Listen. Stop."

Kurt moaned, but he pulled back. "What?"

"I… I want…" Blaine looked away; he stared at Kurt's collarbone and ran his hands up and down his back.

"Blaine," Kurt said on a sigh, stroking Blaine's hair back from his face. "Tell me."

Blaine pulled Kurt back down, burying his face in his neck and speaking against his ear. "I want you inside me." He felt Kurt hold his breath, felt all his muscles tense up, and then he was pulling away, hovering over Blaine again.

"Blaine, honey, we _can't_."

"But how would they even know? It's not like they've got us bugged or they're checking up on us every day. Kurt, please. It's been ten years and I just… I love you. I love you more than anything and I want to do this with you."

Kurt's eyes flicked over Blaine's face, from eyes to mouth to eyes again and just staring at him. His breath shook, but he nodded. "Okay. Yes. Okay." He kept nodding until Blaine took his face in his hands and kissed him, smiling against his lips. Kurt let himself be drawn into it. He pressed his body back against Blaine's and started to rock against him again. He flicked the tip of his tongue across the back of Blaine's teeth and Blaine keened. He spread his legs a little wider and all at once Kurt pulled back, scrabbling in the bedside drawer.

He dropped the bottle of lube beside Blaine and kissed him again. He stroked Blaine's hair off his forehead with trembling fingers.

"Kurt." Blaine took Kurt's hands in his. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Hey, look at me."

Kurt eyes slipped slowly up to his. He looked terrified.

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready," Blaine murmured, stroking his thumbs around Kurt's wrists.

"No!" Kurt shook his head frantically and kneeled up a little. "No, I want it. So, so much. I'm just… I'm nervous. What if I-I do it wrong? Because you're… you're _you_, Blaine, and I really, really need to do this right for you. I want it to be perfect and I – what if I—"

Blaine shushed him hurriedly, stroking placating fingers through Kurt's hair and up his spine. "Breathe." Kurt nodded too fast and Blaine laughed. "That's not breathing. Listen. I love you. I have loved you for almost ten years and I think that anything we do tonight will be perfect because I will be with _you_. I'm not going to lie – I'm pretty scared, too. It's new, but I _want_ it."

Kurt nodded, and Blaine wasn't sure whether it was to him or to himself. He leaned over Blaine once more, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Pull your knees up for me, love."

Blaine curled his knees up to his chest, sliding his hands behind his legs to hold them there. He shuddered at how open he was, spread out this way. Kurt had pulled back a little, just to stare at him. "Blaine," he choked out. Blaine rocked onto his back, trying to spread himself wider, and Kurt closed his eyes, a blissful frown between his eyebrows, and let out a broken moan.

He blinked his eyes open, breathing hard, and Blaine squirmed at the heat in his gaze. Kurt's eyes were almost black, searing right through him. He grabbed the bottle of lube, squirting it onto his fingers, not taking his eyes from Blaine's. When his hand traced down the back of Blaine's thigh, Blaine looked down, needing to see. Kurt's eyes followed, watching his own slick fingers slide across his ass cheek. He ran a finger lightly just around the rim of his hole and Blaine's breath just fell out of his body.

"Oh my god."

Kurt smiled, still transfixed. He pressed the pad of one finger against Blaine's entrance, not enough to push inside, but just resting, pressing. The rim quivered as Blaine's hole clenched around nothing. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head onto Blaine's chest. Blaine whined and pawed at Kurt's back, giving an experimental push of his hips towards Kurt's hand. Kurt chuckled, pressing his lips to Blaine's skin for a couple of seconds, and pushed himself up again. "I'll go as slowly as I can."

Blaine nodded, eyes drifting shut. Kurt couldn't decide where to look, eyes flicking between his hand where the very tip of his finger was pushing inside Blaine, and Blaine's face, his mouth dropping open, cheeks flushed. He slid in up to the first knuckle and stopped, stroking Blaine's hair. "How are you doing?"

"Ah." The small sound escaped unbidden when Blaine tried to work his throat. "Good. So good. Keep going."

Kurt pushed deeper, burying his finger all the way into Blaine. He wanted to cry at the tight heat around it. He'd done this to himself so many times, had Blaine do it to him, but being inside Blaine this way wasn't like anything he could have imagined. He moved his finger, feeling Blaine's muscles open up around it, and he didn't think he'd felt anything as beautiful in his life. He pulled out, pressing in again with two. When Blaine gasped, his head snapped up, worried he'd gone too fast. The gasp of 'yes' that tumbled from Blaine's lips told him otherwise, so he pressed in to the knuckle in one, sharp slide. Blaine's neck strained backwards, stomach muscles pulled taught, and he moaned from deep within his body.

Kurt scissored his fingers, his mind still overwhelmed by how he could feel Blaine, feel what he was doing to him. Blaine was stretching out around him, laying himself out for him, and Kurt was so turned on and so in love that he wanted to scream. He settled for biting hard into the skin of Blaine's shoulder and twisting his hand, crooking his fingers and thrusting them hard inside. Blaine breath seemed to catch, and he choked and gasped, vibrating under Kurt's mouth, the muscles of his ass fluttering around Kurt's fingers.

Kurt started a slow pace, fingers sliding out almost to the very fingertips, then slamming back in, Blaine's moans growing louder and more desperate each time. At last, on one particularly deep thrust, he grabbed the back of Kurt's neck, nails digging hard into the skin, and keened.

"_Kurt_, more, there, more – I…" He was babbling, lips making useless shapes around words he couldn't form.

Kurt smiled, kissed his neck, and stroked his fingers over the nub of oversensitive nerves, drawing small circles across it. Blaine was writhing under him, legs hooking behind Kurt's back and trying to draw him closer; hips canting towards Kurt's hand, trying to get _more_.

Kurt slipped his fingers all the way out and Blaine actually sobbed. "Shh, shh…" He kissed his shoulder, stroking his arm. "I'm not going anywhere." He quickly squeezed more lube onto his fingers and pressed three against Blaine's rim. "I don't want to hurt you."

Blaine nodded frantically, one hand sliding blindly across Kurt's back. His fingernails scratched at the skin when he felt the stretch of three fingers inside him, burning him from the inside out with pain-tinged pleasure. He was so full, Kurt's fingers pressing inside him, and he couldn't even process what Kurt's cock would feel like. "Please, Kurt, now. I want you now."

Kurt pressed his fingers back and forth once more, making absolutely sure that Blaine was stretched wide, muscles relaxed. He wanted it to hurt as little as possible. "Okay." He pulled away, his heat disappearing from over Blaine, from within him. He let his eyes fall closed, just waiting as he heard the sound of Kurt slicking himself up, kneeling between Blaine's legs.

"Blaine, look at me."

He did, opening his eyes and staring right up into Kurt's. He smiled; kissed him. "Are you okay?" He glanced down between their bodies to where Kurt was gripping his cock. His eyes trailed back up, resting on Kurt's again.

"Yeah. Are you… are you _sure_?"

Blaine just lifted his legs, wrapping them around Kurt's hips, and kissed him again. He brushed the hair out of Kurt's eyes.

"Keep your eyes open, okay?" Kurt said.

Blaine nodded, not breaking eye contact. He felt a thick, blunt pressure against his entrance and slid his teeth over his bottom lip. When Kurt entered him, pushing deep in small, shallow thrusts, Blaine felt the world turn over. He was full, stretched out and taken. Kurt was claiming him, claiming his body and his heart with each slide deeper. The sensation was blinding and Blaine had to work so hard to keep his eyes from squeezing shut. He stared up into Kurt's instead, watching him falling apart from within at the feeling of Blaine all around him, and felt a bone-deep contentment spread through him, tingling out to his fingertips.

Blaine felt Kurt's pelvis press against his ass. He could feel Kurt through every part of him, stretching and pressing and holding him, keeping him together. Kurt kissed him, tongue sliding languidly over Blaine's lips as he started to draw his hips back. He pushed in again, still agonisingly slow. It was perfect. Blaine felt like air, like if Kurt stopped holding onto him he would just drift away, dissipate.

The thrusts became harder, their skin slapping against each other. Kurt leaned his head into Blaine's neck, licking the sweat on his skin, and slammed his hips faster. Blaine pushed back onto him, scrabbling at him, moaning into his hair.

"I want to try something," Kurt gasped out. Blaine just moaned in response as Kurt kept pounding into him. He stopped suddenly, and Blaine gasped. "Hold onto me," Kurt whispered, and Blaine just had time to wrap his arms and legs tight around him before he was lifting up on his hands and rolling quickly onto his back. His hands grabbed Blaine's hips, holding him close to him, keeping his cock buried inside him. Blaine grabbed the headboard, steadying himself, but he still dropped into Kurt's lap. His head snapped back and he almost screamed at the way Kurt's cock was pushed right up into him at the most mind-numbing angle.

He didn't move for a few seconds, just panting and gulping and staring unfocused at the ceiling, feeling Kurt inside him. Kurt's hands stroked his thighs, sliding up to his hips, down to his knees, back up and round to swipe over his ass. Blaine took a final gasping breath and lifted his head, tilting it forwards. He pressed shaking hands into Kurt's chest, shifted his legs so they sat a little wider around Kurt's hips, and raised himself up. Kurt's fingers held onto him, wrapped around his sides, keeping him steady. Blaine was grateful for them, as he wasn't sure he had the strength in his quaking muscles to do this alone. He lifted himself as high as he could, until he felt the head of Kurt's cock near his rim. He looked down, locking eyes with Kurt, and dropped himself.

Something shattered in both of them. Kurt growled and his eyes rolled back into his head. Blaine let out an animalistic bark of a sound, barely holding himself upright. It was so much, almost too much, and the edge was the perfection. He was full to the brim; Kurt was rubbing against that spot inside him that made the world blur around the edges and shimmer like heat on the air. He could hardly stand it.

Kurt's fingers dug into his skin and Blaine took the hint, raising up again, falling more quickly this time. He did it again, and again, his pace picking up until he was bouncing in Kurt's lap, the head of Kurt's cock slamming against his prostate each time. Kurt was moaning beneath him, a string of endless, break-less sound. Blaine didn't know if it was real any more. He couldn't conceptualise existence outside the two of them, outside of their movements, the steady pound and pull and press of their bodies.

When Kurt's fingers slid around his cock, Blaine knew he was gone. A few short pulls from Kurt's hand and he was crying out, ass clenching as he spilled across Kurt's stomach in thick, white streaks. He fell forwards, chest sliding against Kurt's. Kurt gripped his hips and started slamming up into him in desperate, jerking snaps. It was only a few seconds before he was stilling, pulling Blaine tight against his body and coming inside him. Blaine closed his eyes at the sensation, how he could feel Kurt's come spurting into his body.

They lay still, chest to chest, breathing slowing in tandem. Blaine mouthed half-kisses against Kurt's skin. He could feel Kurt softening inside him, so he was a little prepared when he tilted Blaine's hips up and slid gently out of him. He still whined at the unexpected loss, muscles clenching around nothing. Kurt stroked his back through it, pressing kisses to his temple.

They still didn't try to stir from their positions. Blaine was wrapped over Kurt, muscles too loose to move by themselves. They drifted for what felt like hours, toeing the edge of consciousness. Blaine would occasionally slip under, then resurface to Kurt's heat all around him. At one point, he blinked, feeling an unplaceable sensation between his legs. He whimpered in confusion and Kurt shushed him. He slid Blaine's body off his, setting him on his front on the bed and sliding down his back. Blaine didn't know what was happening until Kurt's tongue lapped at the inside of his thigh. He shivered, but let Kurt clean him up with his tongue. He hissed at the swipe of wet heat over his entrance, so good but just too much. Kurt stroked his leg, tongue still working him over.

The overwhelming sensation was gone. Kurt lay down beside him, a hand on the small of his back. Blaine smiled at him, bliss shining out of his eyes. Kurt pressed a kiss to his lips, chaste and short-lived. Blaine's eyelids fluttered closed. Everything was so heavy, so warm.

"I love you," he heard Kurt whisper. Then, "You're so beautiful."

He made a small noise in the back of his throat. He tried to communicate every feeling of love and rightness he had within him at that moment through the tiny sound. Kurt seemed to understand: Blaine felt the brush of lips against his again. An arm snaked over his back and a forehead pressed against his own. He revelled in it, the silent contentment of it, and let it carry him into sleep.

"Blaine."

Blaine hummed. Seven letters, 'discontent'.

"Blaine." Kurt's voice was right behind him now and Blaine could hear the tension in it. He dropped his pen, spinning to face his husband. "Blaine, what are these?" He held the papers up and Blaine caught sight of the heading.

"Kurt. Kurt, no, they're… they're not."

"Oh, they're not divorce papers? Because that's sure as hell what they look like." He threw the papers onto the table and they scattered. Blaine sprang to his feet, trying to hold Kurt's arms, but he pulled away. "How long have you been thinking about this?"

"Kurt—"

"Were just waiting out your time of confinement? Is this why we avoid the kids topic, because you thought you wouldn't _be _here? We've been married for ten years, Blaine. A goddamn decade!"

"Yes, we have," Blaine yelled. "And in that decade I thought you might have learned to hear me out before you jump to conclusions!"

"What other conclusion could I possibly draw from divorce papers?"

Blaine flopped back into his chair and put his face in his hands. "Maybe that I got them for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't… I wasn't sure. I didn't know if you'd want to stay now that you don't have to. I thought I'd… Just in case." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I don't want you to leave me," he croaked, voice breaking.

Kurt's hand fluttered over Blaine's back, wanting to press down and comfort him. He drew it back and wrapped his arm around his own waist. "Why did you get them?"

Blaine dropped his head forwards, fingers gripping into his hair. "Because I knew you wouldn't. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't get them. I didn't want to trap you here because you're being kind or… or anything like that. I love you, but if you asked me to let you go, I would, if it would make you happy."

"Blaine." Kurt dropped into the seat next to him with a heavy sigh. He pushed back the hair behind Blaine's ear, fingertips lingering around the shell. "I still wonder sometimes how I got you. Out of everyone I could have been married to, how did I end up with the most kind-hearted, beautiful gay man in the whole country?" He shuffled forwards, resting his cheek against the back of Blaine's shoulder. He looked out at the kitchen, one of the reasons they had chosen the apartment. It was full of light, the windows carving great swathes of sunshine over the wood floors and granite countertops. It was part of everything they had built together, and Kurt's heart physically ached at the thought of losing all of that. "Is that why – last night, is that why?"

"Partially. It sounds awful when I put it that way, but a part of me just wanted to be yours, you know? I wanted a last memory of completely belonging to you, of having experienced everything I could with you if – if I was going to lose you."

Kurt's arm slipped around Blaine's back; he kissed his shoulder. "Stop talking like that. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" His other arm wrapped around Blaine's stomach and his hands linked so he was hugging Blaine close. "I'm never going to say goodbye to you."

Blaine's hand settled over Kurt's, thumb stroking over the knuckles. "I'm sorry."

"Don't. And I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that." He swayed them a little from side to side. "You know me and my hot head."

Blaine laughed, the sound fracturing out into the sunlight from the windows, brightening the air. "Want to follow tradition?"

"What's that?"

"Well, there's a pile of papers I never want to see again on this table, and a convenient box of matches in one of these drawers."

Kurt laughed. "Oh, Blaine, you know me so well."

* * *

><p>They spent the day looking through boxes of old photographs. Kurt pulled them out of the cupboard and sat in the middle of the living room floor, flicking through them. Blaine wrapped himself around his back, knees either side of him, arms around his waist, and they remembered the story that went with each one. Some left them in stitches, gasping; others made Kurt tilt his head back and give Blaine a lazy, happy kiss.<p>

They slipped into bed with their mouths already pressing desperately together, knowing what they needed. Kurt pulled Blaine on top of him, arms curving up around his shoulders. "Let me tonight," he mumbled, teeth pulling on Blaine's ear.

"But—"

"I need you tonight. Please."

Blaine nodded, huffing out a heavy breath. He picked up the bottle from the bedside table, pushing Kurt's knees apart. He kissed him, stretching him out like he had so many times before.

"Does it feel different?" Kurt whispered, eyes closed and a tiny frown between his eyebrows as Blaine pressed two fingers inside him.

"What?"

"After a while. This. When I—" he gasped—"when I did this to you, it was the most – the most amazing feeling. Does that change?"

Blaine kissed his forehead, twisted his fingers inside him so Kurt's legs twitched. "Never."

Kurt smiled, pressing back against him. "Now, Blaine."

Blaine wanted to protest, but he knew Kurt wouldn't say it unless he was sure he could take it. He drew back, feeling Kurt's breath shudder against his neck. "Turn over."

Kurt whined and scrambled onto his front. He raised himself up onto his knees, face in the pillows. He spread his knees and pushed his ass high, but Blaine pressed a hand to his back, lowering him back onto the bed. "No. Like this," he said, laying his chest across Kurt's back.

When he entered him like that, Kurt got it. Blaine was _everywhere_ – all over him, around him, inside him, breathing in his ear and pressing kisses to the back of his neck. The pace was languid, the strokes long, and Kurt felt himself settling into a haze of lust and sex and adoration. Blaine was murmuring things into his hair, kissing across his shoulders, and pushing into him, stopping each time, as deep as he could. He would hold them there, nudging Kurt towards the edge of a precipice before he moved again.

Blaine's arms slipped under his chest. Kurt didn't realise what was happening until Blaine was rolling onto his back, taking Kurt with him. They lay like that for a few seconds, breathing hard, still joined. He leaned his head back and was given an open-mouthed kiss in return. Blaine started to move his hips again, just tiny little pushes, barely moving inside him. Kurt kissed his neck, an idea forming in his mind. He reached out, tangling his hands with Blaine's, and pushed himself up. Blaine made a displeased noise, wanting the closeness back, but Kurt ignored him. He rode Blaine for a few thrusts, enough to make him groan, then reached a hand out.

Blaine saw him grab the lube and made to pull out, trying to think ahead. Kurt squeezed his hand, though, and told him to stop. He squirted some of the liquid onto his fingers, warming it up. His back was to Blaine, so he couldn't see what he was doing. Kurt smiled. He reached behind Blaine's knees, drawing them up a little so his legs were bent, feet resting wide apart on the bed. Kurt cast a glance over his shoulder to find Blaine staring at him confusion. He laughed and turned away.

Kurt's fingers brushed over Blaine's entrance and Blaine cried out. "Kurt, you're crazy."

"Good crazy?"

"Such good crazy, don't stop."

Kurt did as he was told, pushing one finger into Blaine all the way and just holding it there for a second. He could see Blaine's legs shaking, toes curling and uncurling in the sheets. He knew this wouldn't last long – Blaine would be far too over-stimulated to hold himself together.

He thrust his finger in hard and Blaine's hips bucked. Kurt's head dropped forwards and he groaned, but he was nothing compared to Blaine. He grabbed Kurt's hips, back arching. Kurt started pumping his finger, relieved when Blaine took over his part, lifting Kurt's hips and guiding him back down. Their movements matched up and Kurt could just hear Blaine falling to pieces behind him. He pulled out and pressed back in with two fingers, looking over his shoulder. Blaine's face was screwed up, mouth open as he moaned. He looked wrecked. Kurt's stomach twisted up.

He grabbed his cock and started stroke himself hard, fingers fucking faster into Blaine. Blaine yelled, fingers bruising Kurt's hips as he thrust harder, trying to push into the heat around his cock and back onto the glorious pressure of Kurt's fingers all at once. It was all too much and he could feel the heat building up low in his belly, rolling up through his body. He choked out Kurt's name, trying to communicate something to him, but he couldn't get it out. Everything was blinding white light and heat and he was gone, tripping and falling over the edge and screaming Kurt's name. He could feel Kurt clenching around him, spilling across his thigh. He could hear him yelling out as Blaine continued to press into him in hard, slowing thrusts.

When he stopped at last, Kurt fell back onto his chest. Blaine slipped from him, feeling the emptiness where Kurt's fingers had been. His head lolled to the side, vision coming back in spots. Kurt snuffled, nosing against Blaine's neck. He gripped Blaine's arm and rolled them, laying them side by side with Blaine pressed up against his back. He drew Blaine's arm across his stomach.

After unnameable time, Blaine could feel his mind slotting back into place, picking up the trailing parts and gathering them back into cohesion. Kurt was breathing softly beside him, eyes closed, but Blaine knew he wasn't asleep. He pressed dry lips to the back of his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. "We have to stop this."

Kurt groaned, fingers flexing over Blaine's hand which was lying against his stomach. "What?"

"This. Having such amazing sex."

"Why would we ever stop doing that?"

"It's only been ten years, Kurt. We've got a whole lifetime ahead of us and I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a heart attack before we get even halfway."

A laugh rumbled up in Kurt's chest, growing until he was chuckling in Blaine's arms. "Oh, god, you're such a tool."

"A loveable tool?"

"Just… oh, just shut up and sleep, will you? I need you well-rested before I fuck you again." Blaine immediately started snoring, loud and obnoxious in Kurt's ear. Kurt laughed even more, slapping his arm. "Stop it." Blaine's snores grew in volume and Kurt squealed, reaching up behind him to wrap an arm around Blaine's neck. "Stop!"

Blaine chuckled, relenting, and kissed his shoulder. "Really, though, I don't know how you're going to top that."

"Oh, I have a few ideas." Kurt snuggled back into Blaine chest, drawing their hands up to his mouth to press kisses to Blaine's knuckles.

"Care to share?"

He shook his head. "No, no, you just sleep for now. You've got a whole _lifetime_ to find out."


	4. Chapter 4

__Author's Note: Legally Wed is back! A quite important note for this chapter:**This is Brittana. **__I hope you'll still take the time to read it, as it gives a great deal of insight into the world (and Kurt appears repeatedly!). It is rated K+, just so you know. I'll also be posting this as a separate story under the Brittana pairing. I've never written Brittana before, not properly, so I hope this works and you enjoy reading it.__

* * *

><p><em>Demur<em>

Sometimes, Brittany thought the world had off days. Everything had a tinge of greyscale to it; was a little bit quieter, a little bit lonelier. It had its technicolor days; bright, rainbow days, like when they served jell-o in the cafeteria, or when Santana linked their pinkies together between every period. Lately, the off days had been coming more frequently. Artie had called her 'stupid'; Santana had turned up at her house crying and Brittany had kissed her to make her feel better, then Santana had ignored her for three days in a row.

She knew they weren't just for her. The world gave them to everyone – Santana had been crying for a reason, hadn't she? And more and more, Brittany knew one person who was on a constantly cloudy forecast. Kurt was quieter these days and he looked at the floor when he walked. Something about him was broken and defeated and Brittany wished she knew what to do to make him have rainbow days again.

She gave him the cupcake she'd made in Home Ec, which he had taken with a kiss to her cheek and a smile that didn't reach his eyes. She'd made him a card – _Colours make the grey days brighter_ with a unicorn riding a rainbow on the front. In glee rehearsal the day after, Kurt had spun around to show her his vibrant outfit, a bright grin on his face. That had been a rainbow day for him, Brittany thought.

As the weeks went on, Kurt's smile dampened. On his birthday, she'd brought him a cake and another card, and he had barely managed to tilt his lips up. That had made Brittany's heart ache, because birthdays were happy days. They were sunshine, rainbow, fireworks, unicorn days, and Kurt seemed greyer than ever.

When Brittany finally asked him what was wrong, she didn't really understand his reply. She wanted to ask, but there were tears in Kurt's eyes, so she just hugged him, and promised him things she wished on a star would come true, because that was all she could give.

~o~

Brittany propped herself up on her elbows, kicking her feet and watching Santana reapply her eyeliner in front of the mirror. "Kurt's worried about getting married."

Santana let her wrist go lax, the liner dropping from her eye, and raised one eyebrow at Brittany in the glass. "And?"

"He said he doesn't have any choice. But I thought marriage was what you did when you loved someone, so why would he say that?"

Santana shrugged. "People marry for money. That's the only way I'm getting tied down – if I find some drug baron or oil guy or a prince. But for Kurt…" She lowered her hand, dropping the eyeliner into the make-up basket. She dragged a nail across the painted wood of the table. "For Kurt it's different."

"Because he's, like, super gay?"

"Because he's gay at all." She straightened up and started to fuss with her hair. "They don't let fags marry whoever they want. There are rules."

Brittany looked away from her, staring at Lord Tubbington's empty, hair-coated basket. "I don't think you should say things like that, Santana."

"What? It's true. They have to marry who the big guys choose for them."

"No." She nodded to herself and turned back to her. Santana caught sight of her hard expression in the mirror and paused. "I don't think you should call him what you did. It's like when people call me 'stupid' or 'retarded'. It hurts and I… I don't want to spend time with you if you're going to be that kind of person."

Santana opened her mouth, closed it again, and then smiled brightly. "Sorry." She turned back to Brittany and sat next to her on the bed, reaching out a hand to stroke her knuckles. "You're right. But you do want to spend time with me, because how else would we get to do this?" She leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. When Brittany didn't respond, she sat back. "Come on, Britt-Britt, don't be mad at me."

"This is really confusing, Santana."

"What is? We're friends who kiss because it feels good. That's, like, the least confusing thing in the world."

"But…" Brittany huffed in frustration. "So Kurt likes other guys, which means he has to marry who he's told to, right?" Santana nodded. "So," Brittany continued, "if we're doing this, does that mean we'll have to get married?"

Santana froze, staring down at her. "What? Britt, we're not dy-… We're not gay."

"But aren't we? We're girls who like kissing other girls."

"No, we're girls who like kissing each other. Different."

Brittany sat up, pulling her stuffed elephant onto her lap and trying to understand why she wanted to cry. "I don't see how it's different."

"Because you're dating Artie."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, but you were. And I've slept with loads of guys, just like you have. This is just one little girl-kissing thing that we have. It doesn't make us lesbians."

"I…" Brittany pulled the elephant up to her chest and fell back to sit cross-legged. "I don't think it's little, Santana. You're the best part of my life." She shrugged, staring resolutely at the bedspread.

Santana's eyes widened. "Because we're friends," she choked out eventually. "You're my best friend."

"No. It's more than that. Santana, I think I love you. I care about you so much more than I cared about Artie – and I really, really loved him."

"Love doesn't put you under some kind of label."

Brittany's head snapped up and she blinked really fast to keep the tears in her eyes and off her cheeks. "Will you just listen, Santana? Yeah, I like guys. But I like you, too. I think girls are hot, I think guys are hot. Maybe I'm not a lesbian, but I'm pretty sure I'm bi. I don't care if that's a label because it's who I am. You need to figure that out. You need to think about if you like girls and if you love me. You have to know these things, Santana, because what if you are gay? Who would they make you marry? It's not… it's not little, okay?"

Santana pressed her lips together and nodded sharply. "Fine." She stood up, grabbing her bag from the floor and heading to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. I have to think about whether I like girls or not and I can't do that when I'm around you."

"San—"

"I can't think straight when I'm near you, okay?" She glanced back and saw Brittany's frown and the tear tracks which had finally worked their way onto her cheeks. "It's not a bad thing," she said softly with a tiny smile. "I just need some time alone."

Brittany nodded and smiled back at her before Santana turned and left the room, breaking into a run as soon as the door was closed.

~o~

Santana hadn't spoken to her in days. Brittany had tried to link their pinkies together the morning after their sort-of fight, but Santana hadn't even looked at her as she drew her hand away and turned the corner. Brittany kept her pinkies to herself from then on. She sat next to Kurt in glee, trying to play with his hair a couple of times until he slapped her hand away, attempting to him smile just a little bit more, just a little bit wider. Some days she thought it was working.

"Are you still worried about getting married?" she asked one day, cross-legged on Kurt's bed while he sewed a patch onto a jacket for her.

"Not worried," Kurt said, a small frown appearing on his forehead as he shifted the jacket closer to his eyes. "Just accepting it. I had my interview last week." She tilted her head at him, waiting for more. "They use it to decide whether you're the husband or the wife."

"But you're a boy. You can only be a husband."

"Tell that to the government, Britt." He sighed. "I'm going to be the wife, you know."

"Because you sew?"

Kurt laughed a little. "Partially."

There was silence for a little while. Brittany shifted so she was lying on her front, chin resting on her crossed arms as she watched Kurt. "What happens if you like girls _and_ boys?"

"You have to marry someone of the opposite sex."

"So I wouldn't be allowed to marry Santana?"

Kurt paused at that, looking up at her with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I'd have to marry a guy." Kurt nodded. "Santana's a girl."

He set down the jacket, resting the needle on top of it, and climbed onto the bed beside her, lying on his back and tilting his head to look at her. "Do you want to marry Santana?"

"I love her. You marry the person you love, right?"

Kurt smiled, but Brittany had a feeling it wasn't real. "Yeah. That's right."

She brushed her fingers into his hair and for once he let her. "You can't, can you? That's why you're so sad."

He grabbed her wrist, stroking it, and when he spoke his voice was constricted. "No, I can't. When I was little, I thought I'd get married to someone I loved so much that I couldn't spend another minute _not_ being their husband. All I get is his name, Britt. That's not romantic at all."

She brushed his tears away. "I have someone I love and I can't have them."

Kurt shook his head and drew her down into a hug. "It isn't fair, not any of it."

"I think people should marry who they want to marry. I don't think someone's plumbing means you should love them any more or less. We should just marry who we love."

He kissed her forehead. "And that, boo, is why you should run the country."

~o~

"Santana, it's been two weeks." She got no reply as Santana continued to switch books from her locker. "You have to talk to me." She leaned closer, voice dropping to a hushed almost-whisper. "Kurt told me what happens when you're bi. I have to marry a boy, and you're not a boy, Tana."

"Who said you were marrying me?"

Brittany jumped back when Santana slammed her locker. She tried to speak, but Santana was already turning from her and stalking away.

Brittany spent the rest of the day watching the floor as she walked. She missed third period because she was too upset to get out of her seat after second period. She spent an hour in an empty classroom, mind going in circles and not getting anywhere. When she finally reached glee, she felt like Lord Tubbington when he'd taken too much of his medication after his motorcycle accident. Kurt caught sight of her and immediately grabbed her hand, pulling her down beside him and stroking her knuckles. She leaned into him, closing her eyes with her head on his shoulder and not listening to whatever Mr Schuester was saying. She didn't know whether Santana was there because she didn't look. She didn't open her eyes for the whole period and no-one said anything; Kurt just kept stroking her hand.

Sometimes, Brittany ached for sunnier days.

~o~

Brittany had never known there was an Irish dancing club in Lima, so when Rory first invited her she was convinced he'd used his leprechaun magic to make one spring out of the ground. He showed her the leaflet that said it had been open for almost thirty years, so she had to give up on that theory a little, but it was still a shock. True to the spirit, she was decked out in green from top to bottom, and she had cut out little shamrocks in felt and sewn them onto two headbands – one for her and one for Rory. He took it with a smile and linked their elbows together before leading them out onto the dance floor.

It had been a long time since Brittany had let herself dance the night away. So often, every movement reminded her of Santana and she would find herself dancing for the girl she loved until she stumbled from exhaustion, tears streaking her hot cheeks, chest heaving. After too many days of aching muscles, she had forced herself to stop. This kind of dancing wasn't the same; it was carefree, and Rory's eyes sparkled like the jar of glitter Brittany kept on her shelf as he showed her what to do. Soon, those around them were pausing to watch as they moved, and Brittany couldn't stop laughing.

Rory put his coat around her shoulders for the drive home and she snuggled into it, picking up the hat he'd removed in favour of her gift and perching it atop her own head. She tilted her head at him, making him laugh and reach over to take her hand. Brittany flipped hers over, linking their fingers together just to see what it was like. His hands were bigger than Santana's, fingers longer, though not by much, and a bit thicker. The fingernails weren't as smooth or as curved and his palm was warmer. Brittany kept her hand there, trying to figure what about this gesture felt wrong.

They pulled up outside their house and linked arms again as Rory led her up to the front door. The porch light flicked on and Brittany's hand tightened on Rory's arm when she saw a girl sitting on the steps. Santana looked up at them, eyes roving across their outfits and Rory's lingering grin. She was up and running down the path before Brittany even had time to greet her. She yelled Santana'sname after her, tried to chase her, but she was gone into the darkness.

Rory's hand slotted into hers again and Brittany let him guide her back into the house, head a riot of things she couldn't quite catch. It was all little grasps of thought and she was grappling with them so fiercely that she didn't realise they had paused outside her room until Rory's lips were on hers. She stood for a moment, shocked, then stayed completely still. She waited until he had pulled back, given her that small, secretive smile of his and slipped off to his own room before she moved.

When she climbed under her covers later, Lord Tubbington jumping up to curl against her side and knead at her with his claws, Brittany reached for her phone. She started a new text and lay there, stroking her fingers over the keypad and thinking. She slid her nail back and forth over the keys, listening to the soft click-click-click and watching the cat's ears prick up at the sound. He purred louder, kneading at her until she had to put her hand in the way because it was starting to hurt. He yawned, mouth stretching out wide to bare his teeth and his little pink tongue. She poked her finger inside the gap and watched him pull away, a startled look in his eyes, and she laughed. She picked up her phone again, tapped out her message and sent it before she could convince herself otherwise. She rolled onto her side, arm wrapping around Lord Tubbington's large back, nose nuzzling against the top of his head. She fell asleep thinking that today had felt more like a rainbow day than any in a long time.

_To: Santana_

_I dance every dance for you, whoever my partner is._

~o~

She had started dancing again. She was in the practice room, watching her body arch in the mirror as she leapt. She landed; body curling in on itself, head pulled into her chest and back heaving. Her breath felt heavy in her chest, her legs ached, her feet stung, her blood throbbed in her veins. It felt beautiful. The sweat clung to her skin, goosebumps rising in the cold studio air, silent save her panting breaths and the distant rattle of football studs on hallway floors.

She always danced from her heart. Each move had a moment, a memory; some came back time after time, some were new, some were never picked up again. Day after day, it was knitting together, a dance to the music of her heart, the beat reverberating through her bones.

"That was beautiful."

She dropped her forehead onto her knee, breath blowing cold across her skin. She inhaled, lifting herself up in one stretch of movement; back uncurling, weight rolling across the front of one foot to her toes, the other pressing hard into the floor. She slid her right foot, bringing it into parallel with the other, and stroked loose wisps of hair behind her ears. "It's for you."

She heard Santana step softly in from the doorway, crossing the room towards her but stopping a few feet away. "Thank you."

Brittany leaned over and pressed her hands to the floor, stretching out the backs of her legs while she waited. She was sitting on the floor, head pressed to her knee and fingers wrapped around one foot when she heard Santana shift again. She kept stretching, lengthening and soothing her aching muscles.

"You went out with Rory."

"He took me Irish dancing."

"Did you kiss him?"

Brittany lifted both arms above her head, leaning sideways and feeling the twinge down the side of her torso. "He kissed me."

"And you let him."

"What did you want me to do?"

She heard a huff and saw Santana turn away out of her peripheral vision. She sighed, dropping her arms and lifting herself to her feet to look at Santana at last. She had her back to Brittany, one arm wrapped around her stomach and head bowed. Brittany stepped closer, chest aching from something far more strenuous than dancing, and pressed a hand to her back. Santana tilted her head back, eyes closed, and took a sharp breath through her nose.

"You get to have that. You should take it, Britt. Take your freedom and be happy."

Brittany slipped her arms around Santana's waist, pulling her back against her and hooking her chin over Santana's shoulder. "I don't know how to be happy without you."

Hands pried her arms apart, pushing her gently to stumble back a step, into coldness. "I think you're going to have to learn to," Santana whispered, and she walked out of the dance studio, leaving Brittany to the mirrors and the never ending beat of her heart. She turned back to her reflection and began to dance.

~o~

Kurt and Santana were sitting at a table together at lunch. They had separated themselves from the rest of the group and were leaning close over their trays, both pairs of eyes sparking. Brittany rolled her tater tots around her plate as she watched them. Kurt had pushed a small stack of paper towards Santana a few minutes ago and they seemed to be battling over it. Kurt spread the papers wide, pointing at parts of them, reading them aloud, and Brittany wished more than ever that she could be a cat with amazing hearing and tell what they were saying. Santana looked ready to spit fire, so Brittany knew that Kurt was getting one up on her in some way. He was saying something Santana didn't know how to hear.

"Are you going to eat those?"

Brittany looked away from the pair quickly, eyes doe-wide. She shook her head, pushing the tots towards Mercedes and folding her hands in her lap. Sam nudged her and she glanced up. He was smiling sadly at her, holding out a six pack of lip smackers, all different colours.

"You haven't been yourself lately. I thought these might cheer you up? Soft lips always make me feel better."

Brittany looked down at the gift for a moment, then threw her arms around Sam's neck. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear, "you're awesome." She took the packet from him, opening it immediately and picking the pink stick. She glossed her lips, then held it out to him. "Want some?"

He laughed and nodded, following her example, handing the stick back with his lips shining. He smacked his lips together, making her giggle. She glanced back over to the other table to find Santana glaring at Sam, nails digging into an apple. Santana stood up, leaving Kurt mid-sentence, and stalked out of the cafeteria. Brittany looked down at her bright lip smackers, feeling a little bit of the light they had brought fading away.

~o~

She had always thought her locker being next to Santana's was a good thing. It meant seeing each other all the time, sharing books and stationery, and just being in each other's space. These days – The Grey Days, she had come to hate it. She was ignored, or was standing alone for long minutes, waiting in vain hope for the locker beside her to be opened and rummaged through. She wanted to talk to her again, but Santana had been an open flame for days, glaring at anyone and everyone; she'd made Rachel cry twice in as many glee practices.

The times Santana couldn't avoid standing beside her were the hardest. Brittany would take as long as she could, hoping that if she stayed there Santana would just turn to her and start talking. It never happened.

She heard loud, familiar voices approaching, but kept her head buried in her locker, searching for her geometry book.

"I've tried to help you, Santana. I've told you everything you need to know, to make this work. Why can't you just try?"

The locker door next to Brittany's slammed open and she jumped, bag strap slipping through her fingers until she managed to catch it again.

"What exactly do you want me to do? This isn't like putting on a different one of your stupid outfits and feeling like you're a different person. There are things I have no control over."

Kurt whispered something to her which Brittany couldn't hear properly over the clamour of the hallway. She hooked her bag over her shoulders and shut her locker door. "Can you please not talk about me when I'm standing right here?" she said, looking at Santana's now rigid back. "I don't care how stupid I am, I'm not deaf."

"Funny," Santana snapped, slamming her locker shut. "I thought you must be, to put up with Big Mouth Billy's stupid impressions."

Brittany stamped her foot on the floor in frustration. "Why do you always assume things about me? Sometimes I think you don't know me at all. Sam is my friend. He's been nice to me. Maybe you would know that if you actually talked to me."

"He's nice to you because he wants to get into your pants."

"Not everything is about sex, Santana." She sniffed, ignoring the tears welling up in her eyes.

"That's not what you thought when you tried to sleep with the whole student body."

Kurt pulled on Santana's arm. "You're going to be late to class." He pushed her away from them. Santana snarled at him, but he just glared in return. "Leave, Santana."

Brittany wiped the tears from her cheeks, sniffing again. She felt arms wrap around her and curled into them, letting the soft collar of Kurt's jacket cushion her burning cheeks. "She hates me."

"No, she loves you."

"You don't do this to the person you love. You're not mean to them."

She felt a pressure on the top of her head; Kurt pressing a kiss to her hair. "Santana's a bitch when she's scared. She's terrified, Britt."

"Why would she be scared of me?"

"Not of you," Kurt said, hugging her a little tighter. "Of losing you."

~o~

The day Brittany turned eighteen was not as momentous as she had expected. Her cat didn't have a present waiting for her when she woke up, but he'd been grumpy lately, so she had sort of expected that. Her family had thrown streamers over her at breakfast and she had laughed, ripping paper off gorgeous things with glee. Rory had made her a bowl of marshmallows again, and they dyed the milk multicoloured.

Everyone at school was lovely to her. She felt like a Birthday Princess; people kept giving her little presents, or pixie sticks, and she even got a harmonised rendition of Happy Birthday in glee. To other people, it was the perfect day. She came home to her house in the throes of being decorated, ready for the horde of teenagers who would descend on it for a party that night. Everything was beautiful, there were candles in the garden, and so many people turned up that Brittany stopped trying to count. It was everything a birthday should be.

Except that it wasn't.

Santana ignored her at their lockers. She didn't come to glee at all, she didn't give Brittany a present, she didn't even give her eye contact. Brittany was moving through her party, dancing with all of her friends and trying to be as happy as she should be, but she couldn't seem to forget what was missing. She wanted her best friend there to celebrate with her.

Brittany poured herself another drink and leaned against the kitchen cupboards. She closed her eyes and listened to everyone having a good time. She should be doing body shots by now, or dancing on her coffee table, or just laughing. She shouldn't be alone, clutching a drink to her chest and aching.

"Never thought I'd find you in the kitchen at a party."

Brittany dropped her head, keeping her eyes closed. "Why are you here?"

"It's your birthday," Santana said. She leaned against the cupboards beside her. "What sort of person doesn't come to their best friend's birthday party?"

Brittany took a sip of her drink, turning back to the counter. She grabbed a couple of bottles, taking one of the cups from the tower and pouring a mix into them. She handed it to Santana. They both took a gulp.

"You know my drink."

Brittany shrugged, staying silent.

Santana turned her body to face Brittany, mouth set. "Britt-Britt," she murmured.

Puck and Finn fell through the door, laughing loudly and slapping each other on the back. They barged towards the drinks counter, forcing Brittany and Santana to jump out of the way. They argued loudly over what drinks to try, arms flailing. Santana looked ready to slap them both around the back of the head. Brittany nodded her head towards the doorway, heading out into the living room with Santana following.

"Britt—"

"Dance with me," Brittany said, placing her hands on Santana's waist. "No talking. Just dance."

Santana hooked her arms around Brittany shoulders and they moved into the throng of dancers in the middle of the room. They were moving too slowly for the song, pressed together, a static in the chaos. Santana leaned her head against Brittany's shoulder, swaying with her.

After the third song, she spoke up, quietly into Brittany's ear. "Do you think you could pretend?"

"You mean like in the musical?"

"Kind of." She slid her hand up Brittany's neck, into her hair, holding her head close to her. "Would you pretend something for me? Something important."

"I'd do anything for you," Brittany whispered back without having to think about it.

"If I asked you to say that you just like girls, would you do it?"

Brittany kept them swaying and twirling, barely noticing another song coming to an end and melding into the next. "You want me to be someone I'm not." Santana started to pull away, but Brittany tugged her back. "Why, Tana? Tell me why."

"Because I don't want to lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"It's not your choice." Santana's voice was breaking and Brittany held her tighter.

"For you. I'll pretend for you."

Santana took her hand, pulling her away from the party, away up the stairs and into Brittany's bedroom. She paused only for a second, staring at her with shining eyes, then cupped her face between her hands and kissed her, cradling her like a baby bird. She grabbed Brittany's hands, pressing their foreheads together, breathing hard. "Kurt showed me the laws, Britt. There's one for established couples. We just have to prove that we love each other, that's all. We won't even have to pretend."

Brittany smiled, nudging their noses together. "Did you just say you love me?"

Santana laughed, clutching at her and pressing little kisses to her mouth again and again. "I love you. I want to _marry_ you."

Brittany drew her towards the bed, pressing her lips across her jaw, up the smooth skin of her cheek. As they lay back together, Brittany felt everything slotting back into place; rainbows and sunshine and Santana were all she could see.

~o~

She woke to bright sunlight and the whisper of long hair across her chest. The arch of a foot slid up her calf under the sheets. She smiled, pressing her nose into Santana's hair and wrapping a hand around her shoulder. She could hear Santana's breaths, still heavy with sleep. She lay there long enough to be properly awake, and she was just wondering what had happened to all of her guests when Lord Tubbington jumped onto the bed. He looked at Santana, then padded over and settled right next to Brittany's side, his tail flicking across the bare skin of Santana's arm. She stirred as the fur tickled across her inner elbow.

She lifted her head, taking in Lord Tubbington's self-satisfied expression, then rested her chin on Brittany's shoulder. "I hate your cat."

"Ssh," Brittany hissed. "He can hear you!"

"He was meant to." She shifted, one leg tangling further with Brittany's. "I'm only joking." She stroked the cat's head. "Right, furball?" The cat lifted his head into her petting, eyes closed. For a few minutes, everything was silent but for the cat's purrs. "I'm sorry."

"He doesn't mind, Santana. He knows you didn't mean it."

"No – not that. I'm sorry for how I treated you."

"You were scared."

"I was a bitch."

"I forgive you."

Santana drew her hand back from where she had been scratching the cat's chin, pushing on the bed to roll onto her back. "You shouldn't, not so easily."

"But I love you," Brittany said, turning onto her side towards her. She jostled the cat and he stopped purring at once, flexing his claws into her butt through the sheets in retaliation. She ignored him.

"That doesn't mean I'm any good for you."

Brittany took Santana's chin in her hand, drawing it towards her. "I think that you're perfect for me. Isn't my opinion the most important one?"

Santana slipped her own hand over Brittany's. "I was so stupid."

Brittany tipped her head, bumping the tips of their noses together. "Stop it." She stroked her thumb across Santana's chin. "Tell me what we have to do."

Santana closed her eyes at Brittany's touch, remarkably like the cat purring on Brittany's other side. "First we have to put ourselves on the register. It's like this big gay list, keeping track of all the homosexuals. We go to the town hall and sign ourselves into it."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah." Santana tipped her head back, sighing. "You can still put yourself down as bi."

"What would happen if I did?"

"They'd watch you. If you're not married by twenty-one, they put you up to be paired off with someone of the opposite gender."

"But who are you put with?"

"Other bi people. There are some weirdos who sign themselves up to 'take on troubled souls.'" Brittany wrinkled her nose at that. "You're still risking being married off to someone you don't know."

Brittany closed her eyes as well, listening to the scuffing of sheets and sounds of breath. "I don't want to risk that. I want you." Their fingers tangled together, resting against Santana's neck. "After that, after we're signed up, what do we do?"

"Sign up for an established couple interview."

"That's it?"

"We have to get through the interview, but yes."

"And after that… we're free to be us?"

Santana sighed, breath fluttering across Brittany's cheeks. "Within limits."

Brittany flopped onto her back with a frustrated whine. Lord Tubbington jumped off the bed, stalking out of the room. "I'm sick of all these rules all the time. I don't get what's so wrong with _loving_ someone."

"It's not the loving," Santana sighed, leaning up on her elbow and stroking Brittany's hair. "It's the someone."

~o~

The man behind the desk gave them a dirty look when they declared their business. He pointed them towards another corridor, which they took to with linked pinkies. Santana rolled her eyes and the distinctly grottier décor of this department. There was another desk, a girl this time, feet propped on the fake wood surface as she painted her toenails. They stood in front of her for a minute, watching her paint and hum along to the music playing on her radio. Eventually, Santana rolled her eyes and slammed her hand on the desk.

"Hey, white trash, you going to serve us or not?"

The girl jumped, the brush of her polish slipping across her toe and leaving a streak on her skin. She glared up at Santana as she ripped a tissue out of a box on her desk and started to scrub at her toe. "I'm so sorry, miss," she simpered, dropping the tissue into a bin under her desk but not putting her feet down, "I didn't see you there. How can I help you?"

"Don't play cute, you know exactly what we're here for."

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, miss."

Santana almost growled. Brittany tugged on her hand, trying to pull her back, but it was hopeless. "We've come to put ourselves on your dyke list. We're positively wet with excitement at signing ourselves into government slavery. In fact—"

"You'd like to put yourselves on the roster," the girl shouted over her.

"Please," Brittany said, giving her a smile. The girl just rolled her eyes, finally pulling her feet down and starting to tap at her computer.

"Name," she ordered, not looking at them but pointing at Santana.

"Santana Lopez."

"All the way or half?"

"What?"

"Lesbian or bi?" the girl explained, tapping in Santana's name.

"Lesbian."

The girl nodded, clicked, then looked up at Brittany.

"Wait," Santana said, "don't you need anything else?"

"The database has everyone in the district on it, sweet-cheeks. Give it your name and it does the math."

Brittany tried to ignore the chill that was settling over her at the whole idea. "Brittany S. Pierce," she murmured.

"Very funny, darling. What's your real name?"

"I…" Brittany looked at Santana. "What does she mean?"

"I don't care how blonde you are, you're not Britney."

Santana snorted and reached over, grabbing a pen and Post It from the desk, making the girl jump. She wrote out Brittany's name and shoved it in the girl's face. "Learn to listen better, _sweet-cheeks_."

The girl took the Post It, blushing just slightly. She tapped at her keyboard, scrolled, clicked. "Half or full?"

Brittany glanced at Santana, catching her before she managed to look away. She saw the flash of doubt before Santana was staring resolutely at the wall. "Full," she replied, reaching out to take Santana's hand.

"Let me guess: desperately in love, wanting an established couple consultation."

"What's the earliest we can have?" Brittany asked, cutting Santana off from whatever comment she had been about to make.

"Do we look busy?" The girl picked up her phone, pressed nine, and held it to her ear, putting her feet on the desk again. "Jill? Got a couple of girls out here, want to spend the rest of their lives together… I'll send them in." She dropped the phone again. "First door on the left. There's hand sanitizer outside."

Brittany grabbed Santana around the waist and dragged her away, stopping her from doing something she regretted. Still, growls of Spanish ripped their way out and shot back at the girl at the desk, who was painting her nails again, ignoring them completely.

The first door on the left had a shiny gold sign set on it that seemed wholly out of place in the dank department. Brittany knocked on the wood beside Jillian Hoodringer's name, rubbing Santana's back. A voice called out for them to enter and Brittany led them in, hand still guiding Santana, soothing her. Once inside, Santana seemed to come have calmed down. Brittany nudged her and she held her free hand out to the woman behind the desk, who was large, with square glasses and an unimpressed expression.

"Santana Lopez," she said as they shook hands.

"Brittany Pierce," she said as she followed suit.

"Sit down," Jill said, waving at the two chairs in front of her desk. "So you want to get married." They both nodded. "How old are you?"

"I turned eighteen yesterday," Brittany said.

"Seventeen. Eighteen in July."

"And you've been together how long?" Jill asked, already tapping at her computer.

They looked at each other. They couldn't exactly say one day. Santana thought back, lips tilting up at the memory of the first time Brittany had kissed her. She'd wanted to try it, because Santana was pretty and she hadn't kissed a girl before. It was innocent and fun, and it had stayed that way for a long time. Just kissing because it felt good.

"Three years," Santana replied, eyes locked on Brittany's.

"You didn't put yourselves on the roster until now?"

"We were getting things figured out," Brittany said, shifting in her seat. She reached out and took Santana's hand.

"You'll have to wait until that one's eighteen," Jill said, pointing at Santana and typing some more. "And there's a bit of paperwork for you," she said. The printer started to whir at that moment. "No forms, no marriage."

"Wait, that's it?" Santana asked, sitting up in her seat. "I thought this was an interview to test our devotion to each other."

"We ain't in New York, honey," Jill said with a laugh. "You're stupid enough to sign yourselves up for lifelong commitment, who am I to say that's not devotion? I don't give a fuck whether you're in love or not. Take these," she said, taking the pages from the printer. She looked between the two of them, as if she were seeing them properly for the first time since they walked in the room. "Oh."

"Is there a problem?" Brittany asked.

"Either of you feel like cutting your hair?" They looked at each other, eyes wide, then turned back to her. "I need a husband and a wife. You're both wives. Jesus, this is why we match people."

Brittany leaned into Santana with a look of shock on her face. "Does cutting your hair turn you into a boy? Is that what happened to that Samsung guy?"

Santana smiled in spite of herself. "No, Britt. What's the difference?" she asked Jill.

"For lesbians? Mainly children related. I guess it depends which surname you want more." She looked between them once more. "Let me just call Brianna."

"Who?" Santana asked, but she was ignored. Their question was answered by the distant ring of the receptionist's desk and the abrasive voice ringing down the hallway.

Brittany tuned out of the conversation, instead looking at Santana, stroking her hand and trying to think what she'd look like bald.

"You," Jill said. Brittany jumped a little, not realising the phone call had ended. Jill was holding the forms out to Santana. "Husband."

"What did your little minion say to give you that idea?" Santana snarled, taking the forms and tucking them into her bag.

"I think we're done here," Jill said. "Forms by next week at the latest. Come back when you want to book the wedding."

"I'll send you an invitation," Santana said in her bitchiest tone. She grabbed Brittany's hand and pulled her out of the room, away from the drab government corridor and out of the town hall. They stopped on the sun-streaked pavement, Santana breathing hard and leaning her head back into the light. Brittany waited for something to break, for some earth shattering moment, but none came. She tugged on Santana's hand.

"Come on. Come home and help me kick everyone out. I think Finn was asleep in my fridge."

~o~

Brittany pulled at a curl of hair, trying to make it stay in place. Another hand took hold of her wrist, holding her back and doing the task for her. She smiled at her mother's reflection in the mirror as she pinned the curl. Mrs Pierce rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders, squeezing them. "You look beautiful, baby girl."

Brittany tilted her head back to look at her, into those eyes which were just as blue as her own, bright with tears. "Thank you." It wasn't just for the clip; her mother knew that.

"You ready?"

Brittany nodded. She took one last look at herself, then stood up, leaning on her mother's hand. Her sister stepped up to her, holding a stretch of gauzy fabric in her hands. Brittany's mother took it, setting it atop her oldest daughter's head, bringing the veil down across her face. Brittany blinked out at her, feeling all the little butterflies that lived in her stomach wake up and start to stretch their wings, tumbling into a dance.

New Directions sang her down the aisle, grinning at her from the front of the room. She didn't watch them for even a moment. She didn't look at the family on her side, the empty seats on the other. She didn't look at her feet, or her father on her arm, or Kurt's new husband, or any of it. She watched Santana, smiled at how beautiful she looked in her white gown – different to Brittany's, defiance sewn into its fabric.

Brittany reached her in what felt like a haze. She took her hands, holding onto her and leaning on her. Santana smiled at her, not trying to hide the tears in her eyes, and the sight made Brittany fall in love all over again.

"Scared?" she whispered.

"Of you?" Santana asked. She shook her head. "Never."

Brittany grinned, and from then on their eyes never left each other's. She didn't hear a word the man beside them said; she only knew what was happening when she saw Santana's lips shape around _I do_.

They danced for hours that night. The songs changed over and over, but they didn't pull away. "One day," Santana murmured into her ear, "you'll show me that dance. When it's finished."

Brittany kissed her, sweetly, with the promise of years. "I think I just thought of how to end it." She pulled her wife closer and kissed her again, spinning her around the dance floor until they were laughing and clutching at each other.

Brittany knew that grey days would come, just as they did for everyone; but she had Santana, she had love and she had friends, and they would making even the greyest days just a little bit brighter.


End file.
